Hey

       Hi

Was just thinking of you

        Yeah, me too

Talk about your day

         Tell me about yours

While away some time before night falls.
The thing about desire is that the night dresses it up better.
Desire looks ***** during the day and I remain in rags till you;
till you say hello.
I’m boring, I pick the bed.
But, when you’re the same kind of boring, you fit like spoons in a kitchen drawer
and love, I am a small spoon.
I can only contain so much inside me that remembers details
of the spots on your neck,
or of the things you lost,
and the things you found
and the things I am to you.

It’s raining here.

  It’s raining here too.

You would have loved this weather.

                          Someday, I promise.

The promise of someday hangs over my heart like the blade of a guillotine waiting to strike.
I’ve made lists of the things I’d wear and the things we decide we’d rather not.
There are dark crevices and open spaces under greying skies where I’d hold you
to warn you I always have cold feet
and hope you offer to stay closer
or really, just stay.
Plead and please are not that far apart.
And God, I love it when you do both.
My fragile self breaks under the spell of desire mixed with the magic
of pixelated eyes I swear I can see right through.
That was when
I (you) found you (me) crawling under my (your) skin.

I miss you.

                  I miss you too.

I want you so much.

         More than you think.

We’ll count our dreams between sighs
and fall asleep in the arms of
your nights and my mornings
Enveloped only by the sounds of our own breathing
and the beep of the phone.