The soft release. The slow embrace. A blink of two cute eyes. A cry that drains the night. To be intimate with the body, and to be intimate with the soul. To be close and to be far. Write some words. Spit some kisses. Scratch your skin and stain the pages with ink that could be blood that should be blood and so much more. Away from the world, away from almost everything. There is no you but you. There is no me but me. When you tilt back your head and close your eyes and slip into a stream of thought you were told to never entertain, do you feel it in your bones? Can you sense it in every pore? Can you suspend disbelief for only a second to experience life from a strange new place that will leave you gasping for the same dead air you have so many times wished to leave behind? Such a confused mess you are. Such a damaged head of tangled thoughts that just can’t help but keep going in circles. But I’ve seen you at your most beautiful, and I’ve known you at the edge, and each version of you has left me breathless. From the break of morning through to hours of evening we lose without trying, I’ll hold you tight and keep you close, and as the lights blur as we skip along the platform looking for yet another new future, there will never come a moment when we settle for less. I can’t promise you much, but I can promise you this.