gracefully falling back to the arms of grace

He sleeps with the quiet ferociousness of unrepeated history.He is kind,gentle...patient.I am not scared anymore.Of what may or may not come. Because I will have had him, at least once, in a stretch, all to myself. He would have been there once, to fix my shoe, cover me in warmth, slip inside me with ease. He completes the emptiness with his own ridges and we fit like missing pages of a book.
I took the ring away. I don't remember what our first token of love was, or when it was, but this is definitely one of the first ones. And I have stayed true to my word, my own word. The earring is very much there. He seemed a bit off, bored almost mundane. Like I am when he comes to my country. I don't blame him which is why I suggested somewhere like Dubai or New York, somewhere we've both never really lived before.
Holding his hand is lie dipping your own hand in a pool on a hot summer day. Your hand drowns but you know it'll be safe. I feel like a bit of a sap writing so passionately about someone I'm so unbelieveably used to now. Its just been so long since I've written anything significant,anything normal for others to read. Its always the same old, boy broke my heart because of self-created reasons and insert random exotic chick,sob stories of depressing songs and frozen dinners.Buss.Enough now. What I need to do is stop looking for nothing because everything I could POSSibly want is already there. Love, friendship, chocolate, sexy legs,science major,flights to foreign places. Its amazing. I feel moved, alive, reborn. So many positive things to do when I get home
* look for apartment
*study abroad applications
*buy fiery lipstick
*upload/edit london pictures
*sleep
*paint

Hey baby, I decided to paint my fingernails anyway.