Thursday January 19, 2017
Your cold kitchen floor holds me in the way that I've longed for. It is the ideal surface to release knots from my the ropes of my being. My feet are happy to be here too, gliding about in their stretched out socks, igniting new urges to move with each stroke. You are too busy making the best salad of my life out of simple ingredients to notice that I am carving out more room for you in my heart. It's larger today because of you, now shooting fresh blood more aggressively into the uncharted corners of my flesh. Thanks.
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