the other me the other you so natural || parallel grazing... like soft kisses under cool sheets never have touched, yet can tickle so much, again, again, experience the other explicable and envigorating, so much that the _ just can't be contained/pressed/expressed truly in simple written words. goosebumps, held breath, who would have thought simple presence could see & show & feel so much so nervous, so anxious, so amazed, so curious, yum - it builds - this tension such T.O... even if this other us will never meet on this side of the reflection, it's okay. there's no off-switch it seems... and i love all that it is and i love All that it is.
the things to do to say to feel, so unreal and so-su-re-al if there is such thing as an un-provable-un-disprovable bond/natural affinities/of us; no motive, no agenda, yet muted from any role other than to Be... impossibly, but possibly the other you the other me