I have fire in my fingers and I want to believe in this, in me, in you and the way your eyes burn when you look at me and remember why the world spins and atoms collide because of fate.
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I'm not the silly romantic you think I am. I don't want the heavens or the shooting stars. I don't want the gemstones or gold. I have those things already. I want a steady hand. A kind soul. I want to fall asleep and wake, knowing my heart is safe. I want to love and be loved.
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