|pale collarbones covered with mellow streetlights|
collar bones, night time, scars and bruises. the skin remembers.
a stranger told me today that i was beautiful. platinum eyes, staring at the buttons of their woollen coat. they asked if i was cold. an ocean of words pours from my lips and the salted foam covers their hair, swallowing the unanswered questions and unnamed words and everything
(but never is often too far)
you are the light and i don't even know how to hold you