|| Noun ||

Burn burn burn my little sparkle light

Burn boldly burn them blight

Along his blazing path wildfires sing

Footsteps so light we think it the beating of angels’ wings

Soothe soothe soothe my vivacious lark

Soothe my worried joints with your gentle marks

He maps valleys and mountains with heavy breaths

Plunging deep and inwards he reaches to unventured depths

Dance dance dance my circus acrobat

Dance for these eyes alone and put me in a trance

He vanishes by dawn break with no sign of his whereabouts

Like dust that catches light — in and out

And in and out.

– a.h.


You try to break the cycle but it goes on and on and on. You never want to stay and you never want to leave thus you go in and out, and in and out. There’s a fine line between loving someone and plain addiction.

” I almost wish we were butterflies and liv’d but three summer days – three such days with you I could fill with more delight than fifty common years could ever contain. ” – Bright Star : Love Letters and Poems of John Keats to Fanny Brawn, John Keats


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