He is a builder with bricks of moonlight.
He knows the secret places of the earth.
He washes the sleep from the eyes of the souls.
He lets them look on beauty.
He lets them tell him they hate him.
In the mornings, I gather berries and apples.
I scrub his back with rind.
I weave spider-spit, eyelash.
He talks in his sleep: pudding, fire, discus,
the things he misses.
He breathes, Your body is my orchard.
I am undulating grass.
I am a field of wheat he parts with his fingers.
Poppies bloom in my veins.
When he kisses me, he tastes pomegranate.
The night crawls nearer.
The moans of the dead roll and swell.
Mother, we are well.
Ang kapal ng mukha mong gamitin ang salitang lechon sa isang taong di mo kilala. Kuya, di po kami perpekto. As far as I know, di rin po kayo perpekto. So kung pwede lang po, wag naman masyado manglait na parang di niyo pa po naranasan ang masaktan. Hindi naman po kami halaman, may damdamin po kami.
Please don’t be a jerk. You can be more than that.
SO SOMEONE I DONT KNOW TEXTED ME AND
NO AND THEN
HELP ME I DONT KNOW WHO THIS IS AND I LOVE THEM
can i marry you seriously
Update: we’re best friends now