There's this pressure that goes
unnoticed.
There's this calling that comes
from nowhere.
Its the inhalation;
a once craved smoke.
Its the late assignment uncared for.
Its teeth against skin.
Wanderlust
- Stevie
- There, on the horizon, the sun hovers. Watch how she beckons. She asks us to run away, the sunset drawing every molecule of our being into it. And it's no wonder we wish we could fly.
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