Furiously and gorgeously write your ass off.
I love how intimate I've become with failure.
I will beg, will take to my knees, will listen to snow stroking air, a sky of gasps, will open my mouth, swallow, somewhere else the sky is falling, somewhere else it gets back up.
Here, when I say I never want to be without you, somewhere else I am saying I never want to be without you again. And when I touch you in each of the places we meet, in all of the lives we are, it's with hands that are dying and resurrected. When I don't touch you it's a mistake in any life, in each place and forever
The dead have no ears, no answering machines that we know of, still we call.
My heart/ is whatever temperature a heart is/ in a man who doesn't believe in heaven.
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