So as to memorize his curves and crevices with every turn of a corner. To breathe in his very breath from season to season, taste his partially foreign tongue and lips, speak his language, dance so close together that people will stare with slight envy and awe. I'll trace his veins gently as we get to know each other, talking, laughing, welcoming the moon and the stars and the morning sun, each and every day.
The whisperings, whirlings, wonderings, and writings of a dreamer, a dancer, a drawer and a darling.
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