Day Three Hundred and Twelve.


Izzy circle


look at the way the water laps at your feet
like a dog
like it could make you love it
like it knows you own it
like it wants you to pull it closer


Sarah circle


I hope you do not find me churlish, she whispers, wrapping a strand of hair around her finger and winding til it snaps. I hope my words do not frighten you, she purrs with her thumbs folding together like an origami bird. I hope you do not wish to leave, and she flutters her eyes and purses her lips and melts into the pillows.



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