it's funny how
your muscles have a certain memory of things.

like how you can automatically tie
your shoelaces without even thinking
because you've done it so many times,

and how you can play this one song
on piano without even looking
because you've played it so many times,

and you kind of just lived with it
for a short while.

so when you spend a long enough time with someone
your muscles start to memorize
every action they make like how
they breathe into your chest as if you were the only oxygen left
on earth,
or how they fit perfectly
curled up inside you, like it was what your body
was made for in the first place,
and your bodies remember each other,
every slightest touch
can easily be replayed.

and what's funny is that
i can still remember you
even after all this time,
my muscles still imagine you
next to me
and it's funny that
you're not here anymore
yet my body still knows
where your leg would wrap
over mine (just above the knee)
and it's funny that
i'll never stop loving you
because that's what my muscles
will never forget.

you radiated more than
the sun, and shone
brighter than the moon
on a cloudless night, and
for some
reason you decided
that i was
worth your time.

i spent nights wondering
why you even
gave me the time
of day and
i still don't know
the answer
to that, but
i'm happy that
you did because you
are possibly the
best thing to
ever happen to me.