Challenge
write about hands
this is me begging for the romanticism of something SO underrated
Floating, flying, possibly dying
Never have I felt so secure in the tiny things. Your hand gripping mine, as our lips clash, ground me in the moment. Because I am afraid that if you were not holding me down, I would start to float away.
I would float away because there is none of me left. I gave it all to you.
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