Sunday

08.

speak to me in a language
that only flowers can understand.
preach to me in whispers about
how beautiful everything is, from

the heat of our tongues to the 
weight of our bones to the roar 
of the life that awaits us. let me
explore you like some kind of

map laid out before my adventurer
fingers and i'll let you taste the
sweetest love your mind has ever
known. speak to me in whispers 

and say the words that truly 

leave me 

silent.

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You are a body in space, a model on paper. You belong with me.