If I was to beleive all the stories we tell ourselves
(...and I do)
That would mean we are fated for each other
and that our love is simply a ripe fresh apple
waiting to be devoured by lush hungry mouths
(which in turn would be the imbibing of infinite
nourishment.
infinite
knowledge.
infinite g0d-given splendor
Saturday, January 29, 2011
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