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haven Jul 2023
you have not touched this skin,
you have not been inside this bedroom,
slept in this bed,
breathed my name into this air.

but again you are in everything i see,
and it's not something i think i can bear.
they say every seven years your body completely replaces every cell;
it has been eight, but i keep coming back to you, again and again, even after years without.
haven Apr 2022
i crave your touch as if it were holy, empyrean,
your hands like they were part of some divine intervention,
leaving trails of precious metal in their wake.
haven Jul 2021
a skirt and fishnets
heels and eyeliner
tattoos and metal

soft skin, sharp edges
haven Jul 2021
it is too much at once,
but still never enough.
haven Jul 2021
i don't dream of you anymore.
of your hands, of the look in your eyes -
you, your presence in my house,
lighting up my room.
haven Mar 2020
i don’t know if i love you now
but i could love you again,
so easily,
as certain as the sun rising each morning.

— The End —