Knee-jerk, walking. Take me somewhere. Melt me in the palm of your hand. Rub until I am a part of you.
To be filled up with a place like this to not be afraid. New town and I'm still alive and more full.
More.
If we explored together, I would show you the basement swing where I spent my Saturdays. I would show you the place on my hand where I have a scar and ask you how I got it because I can't remember and I know you were there. Somewhere unleashing me, somewhere within.
Waiting.
When we lie on the floor, we are the same height. We are roots and stems and chocolate, bright and slow and floating.
There are cameras and we are kissing. There is a hill behind us and you don't care. You kiss the queen in me, and I am aware of the hill, but I kiss you back, until there is no hill, no cameras. There is not even air for us to breathe.