Drowning in fires,
swimming your storms
the kneel-to
bruising my bones.
Longing, wanton, needy
for hopeless devotion
that pierces my soul
with tangled kisses
on sweet lips
that bloom nectar
and honey.
Kiss me there.
-glassy-eyedgirl
All the grief that swallows us whole is pooling over the edges and bleeding into everything; changing the shape of what it touches.
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