you are made of snowflakes, and i am two-thousand,
three hundred and forty seven degrees farenheit.
as if you'd live long enough to read the thermometer.
i can see the city below me, it's four hundred
thread count shimmering in the light of the
dawn's arrival.
no way will i let you win, no way will you stand to lose.
i am swimming through space, i am swimming through
space to reach your open hands.
when i wake up, love will still be there.
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Remind me next time I cannot think, to stop and read your words.
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