If I breathe you in and you breathe me out, I swear we can
breathe forever. I swear I’ll find summer in your winter
and spring in your autumn and always, hands at the ends of your
fingers, arms at the ends of your shoulders and I swear, when
we run out of forever, when we run out of air, your name will
be the last word that my lungs make air for. —I Wrote
This For You
