"what is that you want?" she asks, her eyes green and dancing. and i want to beat my chest and declare with all my might. i want to
be unpoetic and graceless and impossible, rawboned and alive with the
thrum of stubborn, stupid strength, arrogant and cocksure and good,
despite a roughscuffed heart of gold that yearns for home. i want to
love whole and pure and hopeless. i want words that might catch in my
throat to flow warm and willing from knowing fingertips. i want to
face each day with a rogue's twistlipped lightning smile and a child's
wholehearted sunlit laugh. and i want you to look at me, and see me,
to really see me, to see eyes always, always burning fire under glass,
brighter by the weight of worlds on my shoulders. i want you to see my
dreams between my lashes, iridescent and blinking slow by dawn's first
light. that's what i want. but... "i don't know," i answer, looking away. because i don't know how to put that into words. ghost
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