We are not boom, bang.
We are the gentle progression.
I had an ocean,
I had the angry hurricane,
I had tornadoes in my chest and bombs in my head.
Now I am enjoying the gentle burn of the sun and the tinkling of a bubbling river,
your love is the cool breeze
and the birds singing
and the ladybugs walking across my arm,
tickling my hair and their own bellies
at the same time.
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