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October 27, 2011
When the rooms grows dark, I see colors creep out of your skin like the blood of the sun dripping to the floor. There is blue in your eyes and orange in your breath. There are shades of purple and red and yellow drifting near your hands. There is green above your head. When you touch me, I can feel the low, slow hum of your indigo thoughts.

I have dreams of you with wings. Not soft angel wings, but leathery, scaly dragon wings. Angel wings are easy to break, but yours are everything I need, want, and love.