it’s that hum in the air, of a
thread that strings up our minds,
connecting them, reeling each other
in, until we are weak in our
spines and wanting to commit crimes
by drinking in each other’s breath and blood
like pulling it out of one another will give us
more life, our eyes burning into
one another’s skulls, like fools,
hoping the thoughts
in our heads will be felt
in the bed where we go as
the day bows down,
walking away, giving the
night a crown

written by Tiny Fawns for daily prompt: elixir

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