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I released the breath from my lungs and felt the smoke roll off of my lips. You were still, calm and unhinged. Your collar bones outstretched their beings unto the underside of your shirt and I was entranced. You became the night out here, ...

I released the breath from my lungs and felt the smoke roll off of my lips. You were still, calm and unhinged. Your collar bones outstretched their beings unto the underside of your shirt and I was entranced. You became the night out here, you made falling into the dark seem easy, and falling into you was much worse. Your arms were bridges beneath mine and you held me like I was the wind, like you had felt me forever. I moved the corner of your faded shirt and shown to me was skin like porcelain. I remember thinking I should have tattooed my lips with the reddest red I could find so I could embark on this journey and remember how to get back; you had me lost in a world I knew nothing about. Between us were your demons and mine and for once, I was not angry. My soul had risen out of my body and fallen into a deep, deep slumber with yours. The frazzled hair underneath your ponytail was just enough that I could run my fingers through it to tilt your head where I desired. Your neck exposed was as naked as I had ever seen, and I, was hungry. A whimper left your body as you regurgitated everything that had once shackled you to this earth. In that moment, you grew wings, you flew, and you ever-so-gently escaped me. shuttered savagely, so much that I woke myself up out of fear of losing you again. I would drain myself of blood and sell everything I had to have this high everyday, to have you. For now, I will regain consciousness and slip from these sheets and watch your dream. I ruffled the hair from your forehead and leaned down to kiss you. My lips touching your skin was a poison I had never tasted. I could taste your bitter, your darkness and your heart. I knelt in a last time before I turned to walk away. I heard you mutter and stopped in my tracks. “I love you,” you said. Like you had been saying it for thirty years, like I love you was the last thing you’d ever say. I love you, like you were home. I know now that home is not a place, but home is a person. Home is you, eternal.

Alexandra L. Narron

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