All of birds will sing to your beautiful heart upon the bough.
I fear that some day I will have to choose. A wild life would mean never choosing, but a deep life means I have to know something, or someone, thoroughly. God will tell me to choose, and I will not want to.
Lately I feel a strain on my heart, like it is pulled and demanded and owned by too many. I place my cold fingers on my neck and I calm myself. I rest back in my neck, in my head, and my heart relaxes.
All in all, I am not sad. Not in the least. But sometimes too much pleasure turns into pain. Love like honey so thick it will burn the roof of your mouth needs to be calmed and mixed with milk, if only for a little while so that I can get the dishes done.
before / after
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