Your own
In me
There’s a peasant in me
More tame
Domesticated
A puppeteer, my sweet labrinyth
From her I get my strength
Hard steps
Most prized possessions
My sorry little secrets
Crust
Fate
Meat
Made of stone
Non-attatchment
I think I’m in love pt.3
Glimpse
In those deep brown eyes, a foreign language
I found a reflection of myself
A dance of identities intertwined
Our bloodline meeting in a strangers glance
Both captive and captivated
We read our stories, our selves, together
Freegrandmaa 