a confession
a confession
While you slept, I ran my fingertip across the thin chain that shackles my aorta to yours. Quietly, I attempted to snap it in half, to detatch that unwanted bond, but it was futile to try; to remove it would be to remove my own restless heart.
While you slept, I ran my fingertip across the thin chain that shackles my aorta to yours. Quietly, I attempted to snap it in half, to detatch that unwanted bond, but it was futile to try; to remove it would be to remove my own restless heart.