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    • Apr 19, 2018
    • 1 min read

orange

my hair is up as i stare at her lights

and all i want to do is focus on the white of this carpet

i don’t want to pack

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juniper child these moments when the figments of your mind align with an orbiting truth when the sun is ruthless in hugging all that is stained with disobedient chatter or flattered with wind kisses c

no, i might not get you the moon but know that i’ll love you trying