find your pulse loud all across your body. fingertips tracing the places where you're alive: wrist, neck, back, chest. there's something worth writing about when i feel so wonderful just making the bed together, writing secret notes for your pockets for you to open later, sharing quiet mornings with you. if i'm loose i find your arms again or settle for kissing your back. zipping up my jacket, picking feathers off my jeans, sharing our solitude, the way our day old hair tangles and sprinkles across the bed.
i'm biting my arms again; appreciating how simple and beautiful it is for someone to share the small and quiet of life with. smiling about the way you move and think - the way the open drawer irritates you just like your top button and collar aligning. loving like i'm learning you as a new language.