I live for tiny moments.
The hitch in your breath when you shift beside me, the feel of your foreign skin as I caress it with my fingers, my teeth tearing through your bottom lip, the window’s silhouette slowly spilling on your bedroom wall as the world lazily gets drenched in the honey of the sunrise.
Your palms exploring uncharted territory, the unfamiliar terrain of my hipbones, your chest rising and falling as you introduce me to sounds I have never heard before, the flutter in your eyelids when I kiss your forehead, the silence shared between two strangers meeting at a strange place in a strange point in time.
Your hand clasps mine and we intertwine.
"Darling, you’re with me, always around me.
Give me shelter, or show me heart.
Watch me fall apart, watch me fall apart.”
The world is an eerie grey - and my fingers glide through your hair, crawling up your arm like ants, and you don’t mind.
The world is black and white - your ear is against my breast listening to my over-caffeinated heartbeat.
There is a sort-of thrill from the warmth of your pulse traveling down my shoulders, my back, the bridge of your nose resting at the crook of my neck when you pull me into you and we fit, and so I mind. I mind.
But I am thirsty for life. For meaning. For more than existence.
So I drink in the moments. We are human, and we are alive.
Let us drown in the in-betweens.