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I am weary of giving you access to my heart
emptying and filling
milk turning to wine
dark to light
nipples hard to soft
your fingers across
my hungering skin
I audition
in the morning against
tempura and gold gilt
shivering for the slick hot movement
of you within me
time stands quivering
stars a little closer
cheeks reddened with warble
I hear languages I cannot decipher
we ache and release together
splitting atoms
my throat if it could
would act as flute
climbing keys
touch into touch into loss
I am weary of giving you access to my heart
if this is temporary and restless
we disconnect as you
reduce the moment
walking with your sharp shoes
beyond feeling
as we cool down and ardor
is replaced by greed
a starvation for control
I want to say
I am just a bird
you cannot cage me
I must see the light
in order to thrive in darkness
flames come hottest
in the fragmenting
of former regard
Paradox of desire
Of passion surviving
Something uncompleted
Faded regard
Brings competing
Need for distance
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Exactly. Love the something uncompleted
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It really spoke that to me – something different from unfinished business or ending without closure – the grief of something less than real intimacy, like a beautiful meal that leaves one hungry
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Reblogged this on cabbagesandkings524 and commented:
TheFeatheredSleep at Hijacked Amygdala – A paradox
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Thank you so much : ) xo
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Welcome as ever
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GORGEOUS! ❤
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Thank you sweetheart xo
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