your lips, my lips— apocalypse

the universe is funny.

it feeds you things, then it finds new things, better things to feed you. then you get greedy, and you want more. so you eat more, and you realize that the first good thing you ate, wasn’t nearly as good as the second thing you ate, so now you’re bored and all you want is a nap and your pussy licked, and the feeling of love that swims inside you has turned from a small lake into a tsunami in a matter of days and all you can do is laugh and lose sleep and pretend that the apocalypse won’t happen but as soon as you do, you close your eyes and sleep and dream about the apocalypse happening, and it’s like any other day in this dream. you’re wearing black, you’re wearing your boots, your iPhone is in your hands, you’re at a stop light and you’re texting the love of your life, and somehow the connection is lost and you look up and the world is black.

people are running and crying and all you can do is think how far away the love of your life is. he is so far away. will I ever find him? will this big world turn small for the sake of love? will our strings find each other? will he smell me through the crowd?

will he remember my face?

will he remember my face?

will he remember my face?

will I remember his?

Will we recognize the love, or our faces first?

will he kiss me? fuck me? hold me?

what will the end of the world wake up in us?

will he cut open his hand and feed me?

will he drink heavy of me when I open my legs?

will we become clouds? rain? snow?

will we erupt with our longing?

will he impregnate me with his love?

will I taste him in my mouth while he’s fucking me from behind?

will we be insatiable beasts and remind each other how hungry we are?

will he whisper I love you soft enough to carry, for me and me alone?

will we find each other?

will he recognize my face?

will he recognize my pain?

will he recognize himself, in me?

 

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