Musk

The smell of wet musk; the heavy moisture of air tickles my skin. Tarred sheets.

I can’t say everything about school is falling in place, but the people around me are really a lovely bunch.

Recollection of each and everyone’s own past before anyone of us even knew a fragment of each other. Girly laughter and bumping skins.

May your heart continue to bloom. That as Earth brings in other seeds in your garden and imprint, be it poisonous or contagious, you will remember the sun shines for every flower – for every life on this land. I pray that your heart will beat the life out of you, that your oxygenated muscles dance for you even through the ache. And at night, may your thoughts be of peace and your lashes flutter.

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