Like that time we puzzled piece'd ourselves together on that couch that was so small (your head on my stomach, you stayed up all night). Or when I woke up and it was the morning and the first thing I felt was your hand clearing my face of fallen hair that overwhelms me in my sleep (afraid I would suffocate?). They tend to kiss me on my forehead while they think I'm sleeping. You weren't listening to a single word I said (I hope you weren't). I was drunk. And I didn't know what was going to come into being next, falling from my lips, coming together like sparks from that big bang. It didn't matter (matter). I smoked cigarettes in your car while you looked at me like I was insane or beautiful(?) Or beautifully insane. And you. I remember you. Opening my eyes, yours hanging six inches away, looking over a sleeping animal (it was really very peaceful), and I thought that was exactly what being in love was.

I remember their eyes.