I miss the me that is tightly bounded by you.  I miss that you.  I miss that us.  I dream about it so deeply, so thickly, that the truthiness cleaves to me in a way that makes me shout "STOP IT" in my sleep.  But my mouth is filled with the macaroons we ate in a colour coded approach to bypass the reset switch that would flip when our throats felt ( Read more... )

It's entirely "friend's only".


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