one time he and i were sitting in bed and i said "where do you feel stuff?" and he said "what do you mean?" and i said "here is anxiety," and i pointed to my bottom ribs where the glass in my body starts.

he pointed to his throat "it's here for me."
i keep anger in my calves, he holds it in his hands.
i feel sadness in my lungs, he feels it in his stomach. we play this game until we come to love and i realize i'm terrified (jugular) of what might come.
what if it's not the same, what if he feels it somewhere else. what if it's just a flash fire not a slow burn, what if it's congealing in one place instead of radiating.

i try to change topics (flight response: jaw) and he takes my hands and puts them over his ribs.
"i feel love everywhere. like the sun is trying to escape me, like i'm being consumed and it's filling up all the parts where i used to be empty."

i say "don't be ridiculous, humans are 99% empty space." i nervous laugh (my glass ribs break) and I shift awkwardly, like i always do when i'm uncomfortable (legs)

"everywhere" he repeats and he holds his gaze with mine.