Mountain that dreams of being me: water and air
I erode it’s margins
I etch wrinkles in on its forehead…
I gain meaning despite my volatility.
My hands are evaporating on its chest…
I am haze.
We grow forests together.
United:
This voluptuousness is painful with a new fear:
Loneliness is an illness I can only cure myself of alone.
Reblogged this on My little incredible life( A fictional self).
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