lysandra chang
budding at my fingertips, touching you i start to bloom. alive with trains and passing ships, soft and sweet along your lips now. i go "oh wow." thank you for taking me from my monastery, i was dying to get out. with tears of gratitude, i like my latitude, cross town train to you. now all these tastes improve through the view that comes with you. like they handed me my life, for the first time it felt worth it. like I deserved it.
February 2012
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