declarations of love lost in translation through generations of transistor radios

I wrote this on your back last night when I shouldn't have been focused on the stretch of your skin:


And I think we'll find there's a good reason for hope in all of this.

Precedence comes in the form of nights we know we have to live and loves we can't shake off. This, I feel, breeds a grip strong enough for keeping the important things close at heart, even in gale-force winds going the speed of a feeling sinking to the bottom of what we can't contain.

I gave you an escape hatch & Friday night courage between knobs of your lower vertebrae, so please don't fall and break anything important.