“How long since someone gathered you, broken, in their mouth? What I mean is, when last did someone pull your hair tight? Curve you like a swan’s neck?”
The Piano is Not Firewood Yet
I am The Star Thief. My pockets are illuminated by their light.Find me in dark corners: kissing cats and bleeding prose.
"How about a kiss, saumensch?"
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“I mean to say, come home with me. I mean to say, skin is a language. I mean to say, I do it because I am hurting....
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“How long since someone gathered you, broken, in their mouth? What I mean is, when last did someone pull your hair...
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Had to reblog. Had to, had to. Perfect.
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