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I can’t sleep, so I write instead.
i. Pieces
There are pieces of us I didn’t know existed. Pieces that exist in the dark, shapes that our eyes try to make out in the blackest of night. Pieces that exist when we’re swimming beneath the surface, all sounds mute and all vision blurred. Pieces that exist as our lips smile in relieved unison when a cool breeze comes our way during the hottest of days. Pieces when no one is looking.
iii. Music Box
Sometimes I look at you like a secret. You are beautiful and hidden beneath a muddied exterior, dried and cracked skin, ugly and decomposed. When I look at you, I see you. When I listen to you, I hear you. And when you breathe, I breathe you in like my very first and my very last breathe in this lifetime.