the
tissue
of
my heart
has
crystalized
a
rigid
structure
formed
of
former
flesh
her lips are the chisel
her eyes the hammer
i
am
dust
in
her
presence
my
soul
is
sand
between
her
delicate
fingers
spilling
to
the ground
under her feet
Mike's Manic Word Depot 
Baby, we are black and white
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i actually know what you mean this time. but i am willing to pretend i don’t if it means you’ll keep calling me baby
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Lol you got it
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best day ever
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