The opposition

Aching arms

The opposition
I travel in eastern directions
I rise with the morning light
She bathes in her own perfection
I drown in her surface light
She moves towards conversation
I swallow my tongue
We indulge in each others reflection
It's a strain but it's always aching arms
Aching hearts

We travel in eastern directions
I swallow my tongue
We indulge in each others reflection
It's a strain but it's always aching arms
Aching hearts
Feels like a paradise to me.

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