(Untitled)

[adventurerneil]

I'll not contain you,
I won't look for you in my room.
Through lengthy talks I'll not contain you.
Through climbing arms, I'll reach my loft.
Through rotting skin, I'll leave my coffin.
Through callous work, I will grow soft.
My eyes narrow towards on light.
A blurry place where we hotly radiate,
And things, they are never concrete there.
And we

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[troubadors]

(heart)