a painter

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I think there are pockets of goodbye in my heart and every time your dove winged fingertips touch me they begin to heal / almost as if you held rose water in your kisses / almost as if your soft yellow hair and green eyes were gems crystallized into red veins carried to my heart / [i think you can be the first hello my heart won't regret] I want loving you to be like this always / I want your fingers to trace the inside of my wrists - press paint into my veins with your lips / I want to be a part of your masterpiece / and I think there are pockets you are forever starting to fill




killltonight  for being such a sweetheart

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