At the end of the tale, it never would settle into a conventional mold. Two short steps and one long, always changing direction, walking different ways but always together. Chain us together with years upon years of these shared moments, impossible to break one from all the interlocking others. Wrap my wrists tight against his in silken cords of consideration and courtesy. At such close range we must move together or risk breaking.
(something else like poetry)
At the end of the tale, it never would settle into a conventional mold. Two short steps and one long, always changing direction, walking different ways but always together. Chain us together with years upon years of these shared moments, impossible to break one from all the interlocking others. Wrap my wrists tight against his in silken cords of consideration and courtesy. At such close range we must move together or risk breaking.
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