Å·±¦ÓéÀÖ

To always be hanging by a string. We can make it a few more weeks, and if we’re lucky, maybe a couple of years. But this isn’t a forever thing. We watch this string like we watch spiders suspended from webs from ceilings. 

Oh how tangled. 

We won’t know each other in old age, but we know each other now. Now, we’ll walk naked and take ownership of our favorite soft spots on each other. We’ll drain every fragment of life source, then renew. We’ll fuck at the end of this string suspended from the ceiling until it breaks.