

perfume.i. honey and sulfur, the smell of the sky exploding at three in the morning when you are so deeply unconscious. ii. wax and marmalade,perfume.
the smell of childhood friends, and the fire that destroyed twenty seven years of photographed memories. iii. moss and salt, the smell of images strewn


some kind of savior.if i could capture your beauty, inner and outer, i could destroy the world and reinvent it in the space of a heartbeat, in the space of what your unforgivable, unforgettable beauty could destroy create something better.some kind of savior.
something with no need for love poems written in an effort to staunch bleeding organs.
someday theyll be able to bottle your loyalty, though i am sure it would eat through like acid in order to stand by the one you loved.
your loyalty could knock the whole world to their knees, all of us, each one, (even I, who have already
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