your hair, the tendrils of a tangerine- your face blooming the shade of a sun, the light i inhale and savour, the feverish graze of our fingers; i worship the moment, musical arrangement annotating the air, its promise of permanence serenading us; the song of unison, our entire lives squeeze into that very sonnet of laughter, written in the knotting of our eyes, an astronomical marriage of fates; your echo cardiogram, retraces the creases in my palm, lines cut off a silk sheet, strung up violin and bow, a one point perspective; a telescope sights blood vessels bursting, a celestial body limping towards home planet, astronomer drenching it in hugs of gauze, its rings like angel wings, fragments of fragile fiber; cat's cradle with the threads of philia, i stitch your sinew, fingers rusting like a lyre player's, a healer's, a god's. an inch is left open as an invitation for the sun. thank you for reading <3
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