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the night the stars fell we hid under the sea,
deep below where electric eels slither and starfish breathe.
forests were swallowed by fire and mountains burst with magma,
we hid in kelp forests, we dipped between the earth’s mantle.
we held each other’s hands so we wouldn’t drift away,
during an era where night was indistinguishable from day.
stars kept falling and peace couldn’t be achieved,
while islands sunk and angry stars couldn’t conceieve,
of a tiny planet hiding behind other worlds and suns,
full of creatures scared of meteors and oxygen being taken from their lungs.
but while the surface of our biosphere suffers wither and blight,
it pushes us deeper into dark abysses where never before has been seen light,
and we meet the beasts who too have never been seen by others’ eyes,
this once immaculate world, where we’re certain we’ve gone to die.
we’ll perish among the anglerfish and spider crabs in these sunken galleons,
with the terrifying and the venerable who haven’t changed much in millions.
young organic beasts are we,
hiding down here at the bottom of the sea.

Imagine your girlfriend taking photographs of you, not selfies, not “outfit of the day”, no Instagram bullshit. Actual photos. When you wake up, when you look at her, when you’re making love, when you’re cooking, when you’re taking a shower. Imagine if your girlfriend did that. This is a person who loves creating a visual documentation of the person she loves. You would cry at every picture she took because you know it’ll be purer than any other visual representation of yourself.
(via bodv)

(Source: enlightened-eloquently)

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