find myself wishing a little bit more each morning, noon and night for the rewind button on your remote control. those nights when we sat next to each other consumed with each other while consuming the screen before us, smoke aching our lungs as we grapple for new answers to old questions and old answers to new questions and all at once, I wish I had pressed paused, pulled my hair back and sunk to my knees. We could've mistaken it love but we understood the tensions of lust too much to fall prey and so instead we chose to fall in with the way  we spoke, the way we walked and the way we felt when our hands and thighs brushed each time we passed a spliff or a beer or each time our legs brushed, I remember it all down to the ache of my veins. "I understand what I am still too proud to mention, to you."