of arms and legs, knees and darkness.

breath.

dear god girl.

those fingertips.

skin.

see this, now, you. see these flashes of images that push upon the back of your skull. the back of my skull.

i would kiss your palm, after twilight.

the inside of your wrist. the curve of your elbow. while holding your hand. stretching your arm out.

i would not mind if your feet were cold or if you took all the covers while leaving the air condition blowing hard and fierce over my exposed skin.

i would sleep naked next to you. not caring about the risk of air condition gooesebumped skin.

my feet crossed at my ankle. hands folded on stomach. staring at the ceiling while you slept. listening. feeling you next to me. loving the way the bed dipped. bringing us closer.

i would smile, you know.

listen:

im an asshole. a major, giant asshole.

and part of what is killing me right now is pretending im not. pretending im not because you believe i am not. whatever you say i am, i am.

but i would kill myself forever, to be what you think i am.

because what you think i am is who i want to be.

your hands. the back of your knees. nape of your neck, belly button, small of your back.

flashes in the night of exposure.

unfurling.

peeling.