where there are only great
awaited comforts in quivering lips. where what can open up will, and does, again and again.
where a surreal closeness rises
up from arguments. where fuck is sweet like candy. where I love
you's, like trees, aren't endless or used sparingly. a place where everyone holds onto everything, long after the ending has ended. . . a place where there are many buildings and every building is a house and all the houses have no walls.
I dreamed that you were dreaming about me dreaming about you.