Tell me again about the day you whispered that to me and became my forever human….And I will tell you about that strange , remote planet of violet moons where the day lasted 72 hours and was blocked on repeat. Mornings had the shape of mugs and afternoons the warmth of blankets. Where the skin  was always warm because another skin was touching it. Where smiling made the day worth waking up. And the fox slept every afternoon because sleep meant spooning. And words came out from everywhere, like fireflies. They spoke in words, in eyes, in smells and touch. And still had things to say….The embrace was a cocoon of safety and rest. And for a countless numbers of seconds, nothing else mattered.

some sort of exupery


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