12 February 2010


Like rubbing your cheek against his stubble. Like writing poetry in Hungarian. Like correcting all of the mistakes you made. Like chopping onions layer by layer. Like glue sticking to your skin. Like curling against his body in the middle of the night. Like half-dreams, or ideal dreams, or nightmares. Like rubbing fabric between your fingers. It's like that. --------- current mood: dazed current music: Sigur Ros - Luvstory

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