There are few things in this world that I love more than your laughter.
sometimes it travels upwards
and diagonally
through my lungs before scattering around the aorta pipes
with butterfly wings fluttering incessantly as I try to think.
other times it fills my chest to its' heaviest, warmest foam expansion,
bubbling lightly over with traces and mint hints of pride
and a giddy grinning peace of my own.
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