//revelation I

what could describe the ache, the weary longing for stardusted brushes of molten skin (she doesn’t mean it and you know- so why do you still care?). you smell like home and a place where i could finally be safe from my own thoughts that plague me like some two tonne shadow that clings to my back and never stops, and i long for your touch if not just to feel the abscence of it for far longer than it’s there. the weight of it all bears down on atlas, but even he collapses sometimes- when you look at me through your lashes and the sky spins and spins. it falls towards you and spins, spins around us so that all i can see is

you

nothing but you