“At the touch of a lover, everyone becomes a poet.” -Plato Chapter 1 Our world is made for soulmates. The stars in the sky exist so we can use them to spell out their names—, a what is to come by starlight, the moon so we can use its shine to barely make out their faces—, a what is by moonlight, and the sun to show us who they really were—, a what was by sunlight. Who could merit such magnificent things but The Lover? A person’s other half that reminds them they are in-fact, incomplete. Who could bring a being to take blades to their once-porcelain skin and rip it apart at the seams but those that did it themselves first? Who could make this planet seem uninhabitable any longer without them by our sides? Soulmates are powerful. They have energy we didn’t know existed. And still—, we are drawn to their scent like moths to a flame. We burn and bleed with ecstasy.
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Many Million Dreams Ago • Ch. 1 of 10
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“At the touch of a lover, everyone becomes a poet.” -Plato Chapter 1 Our world is made for soulmates. The stars in the sky exist so we can use them to spell out their names—, a what is to come by starlight, the moon so we can use its shine to barely make out their faces—, a what is by moonlight, and the sun to show us who they really were—, a what was by sunlight. Who could merit such magnificent things but The Lover? A person’s other half that reminds them they are in-fact, incomplete. Who could bring a being to take blades to their once-porcelain skin and rip it apart at the seams but those that did it themselves first? Who could make this planet seem uninhabitable any longer without them by our sides? Soulmates are powerful. They have energy we didn’t know existed. And still—, we are drawn to their scent like moths to a flame. We burn and bleed with ecstasy.