January 2012
December 2011
sappy things at 4 in the morning
I put your shirt on my pillow so I can breathe you in while I fall asleep. My fingers trace the places you called yours a mere couple of days ago; the memory of our Thursday seems so far gone but its more vivid and more evocative than the others I’ve ever had. Your voice was glorious as you hummed the lyrics of the artist through my skin and blended it with my heartbeat.
Limit to Your Love
James Blake
There’s a limit to your love,
like a waterfall in slow motion
Like a map with no ocean, there’s a limit to your love