I am in love with your biological makeup
Your mess of countless diverse cells
The cells that form the epidermis that wraps around you and calls you home.
Those cells that are constantly replacing old for new
The dead layer unnoticeably falling off with no harm when you touch me.
The dead cells that make mine feel alive
To the point I only feel alive with your cells which are plummeting to death but regenerating mine back to life.
The cells that come together in an array of ways to compose your beautiful, yet, intriguing soul are the same ones that help compose who I am.
Even though the ones that touch me are dead, they are the ones that make me feel alive.
And I cannot live without them.