Saturday, October 18, 2014

When you touch me I am made of starlight, are there galaxies in your hands?

I think there might be galaxies in your fingertips and if you touch me maybe I will collapse in on myself like a dying star but if you don’t I will never know what infinity feels like and I have always wanted to be torn apart and put back together and I want you to be the one picking up the pieces, you are the only person who knows where they all fit.

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