Dear You,
I’m guilty of missing your shape next to mine so keenly. The shape of my pillow isn't as perfect as you and though I tangle my legs together in my cold bed sheets and they are soft and comforting they aren't nearly as soft and comforting as you are. This can’t be real. Perhaps I have made you up, and we’ll just be together in this little love book of mine like when people say “anything is possible”. Let’s love us in this craziness and prove them right. I’m happy you’ve forgotten her because it’s in my arms you belong in and doesn’t it feel so good?
Loving you madly,
Me.
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3 comments:
your words are like paint on a canvas. pure art.
great blog.
-keep it ill-
Where did you find this thing that makes you write like this, is there another love letter on the way? We need to now.
Is la la land real,and where can i find it.
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