“I’m a student of light,” Louis said. “And a poet.” “No, I leave that to Charles Baudelaire. My job is to capture things before they disappear.” “Am I going to disappear, Monsieur Daguerre?” - Dominic Smith, The Mercury Visions of Louis Daguerre
Imagine, I'm laying in your bed. Beneath your covers. On your pillow. In your arms. Imagine, you press your thumb to my lower lip, and you can hear my heart beating like a hammer. You remake my ribcage with your fingertips, and you teach me a new language with your mouth. You touch me with intention. Imagine, I let you. I uncurl. Moonlight filters in through the window and pours over us. That silky-white illumination is reflected in your eyes and it touches you so softly, I could scream. And the exquisite truth of it all is, that if you ever did get to touch me, I think I would die.
Disappearing isn't easy. It takes time and effort To stay away from everything That you think helps Because you're always itching to get back, And it's always an inch away From your fingertips Because all you'd have to do is click a button, And you're addicted. Again.
I'm back. Don't know for how long. Don't know if and when I'll disappear again. But for now; I'm back. I just couldn't write. Didn't know what to.
I think I have begun to reach it, the edge of the world. whether it is flat or round everything must come to an end so I have begun to reach it, the edge of the world of this world of your world of my world. I'm **** near the end im so close I can caress the stars with my fingertips. up here the oceans have taken the size of a mere moon. and I think what world must lie beyond but I how ready I am to leave his one, or if there even is a world regardless I have reached the edge of my world and I could not be more ready to jump.
It was in the warmth of her body where I found ecstasy my fingertips laced in the spaces between hers our thumbs painting each other's palms in subtlety her head rests on my arm my head rests on hers in the midst of each other's surrender