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Will you come with me
to live on the edge of the impossible
to try our hands at love
on the sweeter side
of the cobalt-blue universe
where balance comes easier,
the beautiful translation
of believing, where people
prove people wrong all the time,
the people who say people can’t,
where the world’s
greatest songs are written
and surprise even the most jaded
millennia after original melodies
are believed to have run out,
where mountains and oceans
are crossed leisurely enough
as to not make us lose our bearings
but there is always still
enough time to touch,
when people touch,
where people re-think the unfeasible
and start valuing truth again,
where people dare stand right at
the focus of that searching light
and pass with flying colors,
where people can wait
for slowly moving dreams
and hold on,
hold on for real,
with more than their fingertips,
with full-blooded palms
pressed against the raw, rough night?

We belong there
the sustenance that
our souls require is purer than
what they have to offer here,
and why should either you or I
be willing to settle?

So cross over,
you know where that place is,
we talk about the directions to it
every night.
Go run and grab your archangel wings
and meet me there. I’ll be waiting.

“Donna Sul pontile” by photographer Iridediluce


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