How foolish is it to think that we love only with out hearts. The heart is just an organ with a job to do, a quota to fill. When I love, I don't want to love with a blood-pumping machine. I want to love with every inch of my body. I will love you with my knees and my fingertips, with my elbows and my collarbones, with my freckles and my knuckles, my wrinkles and my scars.
And I will love you will all the spaces in between.
The Spaces in Between
Tuesday, October 22, 2013
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