You'd try to fake love, then fake it even more to make up for the guilt of needing to fake in the first place. And soon enough you realize you are running thin,
but on love.
Tight Junctions
It is his skin, not the mortal, physical, graspable wrapping for his vessel. But the tethered spaces in between his cells. Filled with life, tears, soul and pain. The confinement you wanna pull apart, with your bare hands, out of love or in search for love.
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