It's the kinda love where you're being swallowed whole.
You want to melt into their bones.
You walk them to the door,
tip-toe across the floor,
12:04.
You don't think you've ever felt like this before,
center of the sun, molten core, honey drizzled on toast.
Wash them from your hair,
check under your nails,
go to bed,
their face imprinted on your eyelids.