To feel the heaviness of love lying next to you, the rumble of snoring in your ear that keeps you awake until the sun peaks the horizon, the crash-and-bang of a heartbeat foreign to your own. These sounds are nowhere near as deafening as an empty pillow, the echoes of your own breath off the wall, the glass shattering in your chest where a heart once was.
Likewise; the soft touch of fabric on a pillow cannot compare to the flames that dance on your cheeks and tickle my palms.
This hollowness inside me can only be filled by the drums in your chest, the thunder in my ear, the weight of your body next to me. Lay with me, my love.
Until the weight of our bodies cause the walls to collapse… until the storms shake the earth apart… until our hearts beat in time to rebuild what is broken.
I love you in the way the sun kisses the edges of the
clouds in the morning. The way the steam rises from my coffee
and curls at the end of my nose. The way my hair will split in
two, sometimes three ways at the ends. With hopes that,
in just one of these ways, it is a language you understand.
A whisper that tickles the hairs
on the back of your neck.