words by dominic riccitello

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  • Aug 17, 2015

    we were just
    looking for what could
    instead of what was
    what should be
    instead of how it was

    lost angeles
    words by dominic riccitello
  • Aug 16, 2015

    He said he liked my rhythm. I said I liked his heartbeat, and it was within that moment I knew our corners would never meet.

    words by dominic riccitello
  • Aug 15, 2015

    In order for a relationship to work, you need to learn from each other. Grow and experience. One can’t be the leader and the other the follower. You learn and grow and you do this together, with each other. This creates love, loyalty and growth.

    words by dominic riccitello
  • Aug 14, 2015

    my lungs
    upon the floor
    your shoes
    upon my heart
    my fingers
    caressing your soul
    the feeling you’ll never know

    with force
    words by dominic riccitello
  • Aug 13, 2015

    You don’t get over it. You move past it. You move through it. You lose yourself to find it, and when found, it’s yours and no longer theirs.

    words by dominic riccitello
  • Aug 12, 2015

    It might be the death of me, but it’ll never be the end of me.

    words by dominic riccitello
  • Aug 11, 2015

    Loving you was hard, wanting you was harder, but kissing your forehead was insanity.

    words by dominic riccitello
  • Aug 10, 2015

    whispers were soft
    his tongue was a cost
    words upon
    the drift
    swift of his wings
    hands, how innocent
    and sultry

    heat of the moment
    words by dominic riccitello
  • Aug 9, 2015

    I never expected to fall in love. I never expected to float or fall a thousand feet and create the crevice I called my life. But the thing with crevices, there’s always a top and always a bottom. And the feeling of appreciation when you look from the top and understand how fast it can all come crashing down — it’s more than beautiful and more than words could ever explain.

    words by dominic riccitello
  • Aug 8, 2015

    I don’t remember his face or the place we ate. I only remember how he grabbed my hand and his voice when he spoke of his dad.

    words by dominic riccitello
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