(no subject)

[almostzero]

There is no way to be young, in love
Without the youngness, the loveness
The breaking bursting popping joy
Of a thousand tiny cataclysms
Bringing iceageaftericeageaftericeage (!!!!)
To the pangea of your aaorta.

We live whole lives sorting through moments,
Like so much unripe fruit,
Searching for the few that we may view
Like battered slides
In our final moments, before some quiet exit.