the whole of me, everything in me, waits on this thin edge. my heart, my soul, my mind, my self, all wait, together, holding a collective breath, on this thin edge.

they wait for your word. a please, a i love you too, a nonword but a brief touch.

and they would fall for you. fall into you.

at the same time, however, i know that if you woke up one day, in love with me, i would disagree.

no. you dont. i would fight you at first. and you would ask why.

everyone would ask why.

i would take you outside. you cant talk about things like that indoors. i would take you outside. run my fingertips along your hair line. afraid.

because. because my fingertips now remember your skin. because if you woke up one day now deciding to be nothing more than good friends, my fingertips and my skin and everything about me will remember your everything.

so if you are in love with me, please, dear god, please be sure you are in love with me.

i do not know how many miles there are between us. i know that if i found out, the number would become a mantra.

a repeated sound in my head.

it would thump in time with my heart.

it would flow into my blood and hit my fingertips and my toes and i would feel the inches all over.

my elbows, my knees. my stomach.

i write as if you were here. behind me. reading what i type.

it is a way that we communicate today. because i am too shy or nervous or i dont like talking, i dont like my voice or how i say the words, so i ask if i could type.

and here i am typing.