July Thirteenth, 2017
You used to complete me.
By Maxwell L. ArdorPublished 6 years ago • 1 min read
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My chest filled of fresh air and clouded thoughts, euphoric tensions pushing my lungs into my throat the way the gravel dug into my skin, only uncomfortable during sudden movement. I didn't dare forget to to capture the moment with my bare hands, pressed against hers, pressed against my collarbone. I swallowed every second of purity, of light. The only light was the moon and the stars and the streetlamps or maybe a sudden car passing us on the street. The mechanical hum of cars in the middle of the night always pushed my heart to beat faster and my clouded breathing to grow slower. I never understood how that worked but I never questioned it until now. I didn't want to think of much else.
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