Be Satisfied

It is time
you opened your eyes
to the warmth of me,
opened your lips
to the bright of me.
I have dreamt of you
since before you talked to me
of fever dreams
and red thread.
I have only
a hundred thousand others in me,
a hundred hundred hundred thousand others,
live in dreams and fantasy loves,
only a hundred hundred hundred thousand thousand others,
and I at least must have you,
before I could ever be satisfied.

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About Catastrophe Jones

Wretched word-goblin with enough interests that they're not particularly awesome at any of them. Terrible self-esteem and yet prone to hilarious bouts of hubris. Full of the worst flavors of self-awareness. Owns far too many craft supplies. Will sing to you at the slightest provocation.
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