[Fighting writer's block]
To my distant lover.
When I said always
What I meant was...always.
And what I meant by that was--
I could take the disarray of stars and fit the universe in my throat. I could spit out constellations an d have them line up obediently on paper. I could make metaphors out of lava fields and sulfur an d cradle the uinatainable in my arms as if it had just been born into something raw an d touchable.
And I could do this all with little more than an empt field, the crushed, bleached an d dried remains of a tree, th e feather of a bird an d something to dip in for ink.
Yes, my God loves me, and he lets m e borrow a little taste of his power during special moments I call 'inspiration'
To my distant lover.
When I said always
What I meant was...always.
And what I meant by that was--
I could take the disarray of stars and fit the universe in my throat. I could spit out constellations an d have them line up obediently on paper. I could make metaphors out of lava fields and sulfur an d cradle the uinatainable in my arms as if it had just been born into something raw an d touchable.
And I could do this all with little more than an empt field, the crushed, bleached an d dried remains of a tree, th e feather of a bird an d something to dip in for ink.
Yes, my God loves me, and he lets m e borrow a little taste of his power during special moments I call 'inspiration'
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