If it's okay, I will leave the bed light on. and place your water glass where it belongs. And if it's alright, I will lie awake at night, pretending i am curled up at your side. You see how I am circling in these patterns? how I am living, out of memories? I am still a long way from accepting it, that there's just no you and me. Did I commit a crime? I won't believe that loving you was just a waste of time. or was it in my head, that I am reading into things that you never said? Because I still don't have the answers, to why we couldn't work it out. I want to think it's something that I did, so I can turn it back around. I want to convince myself, that we're perfect in every single way. As long as I can keep the truth away, from my heart. If I still believe that you love me, maybe I will survive. So I tell myself you're coming home,...
I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz, or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off. I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul. I love you as the plant that never blooms but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers; thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance, risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body. I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride; so I love you because I know no other way than this: where I does not exist, nor you, so close that your hand on my chest is my hand, so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep. D, I love you
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