unlearning in an unclassroom One of many boxes created to contain the uncontainable. (the vastness of the universe defiantly sneers at these structures) Brave, beautiful souls baring of self in our chromatic splendor. (we are brighter than these glaring lights that cast false shadows on flat surfaces) Space within space within space.
in my bedroom on this side of the mirror, i see a world of collected treasures. many given to me by my most precious treasures– the souls i share this life with. things made by hands i have held (and loved). flowers, now dried given to me by little people with cherubic grace. (buttercups, dandelions…
it’s not just that his lips are sexy it’s that they speak truth and ask deep questions laughter pours forth from them (also kindness, gentleness and acceptance) yes, i like them against my mouth (and other places) but it’s the substance of him that pull me in to his gravity
slurping chai from a saucer like a kitten (and the blushing) falling in to your gravity meandering through the conversation the day your journal (this still leaves me smiling) me, drawn to the texture of your opinions and passions (and then the kissing)
