life is a tiny gift.
because soon, i'll be tasting your breath in a sun-filled bedroom,
my eyes wide open, peeking at your skin,
brushing on our awkward arms.
this is what i want, and this is what i'll have,
but if i ripped open the sky for a thousand years, it would still not be enough.
did you know, dear friend?
in this life,
i am most likely to commit the most evil greed,
and him the most evil envy,
because he knows each time i wrote and each time i write from that moment on, he is no longer you,
and you are no longer him.
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