not your body not your skin not the tips of your peachy fingers not your passionate kiss not your heart beat not your breath hovering over my neck, sending goosebumps and shivers down my spine not your eyes sighting upon my beauty or my loveliness or my seduction or my carefreeness I want to feel you move inside not inside of me (though, that could be nice too) inside of you your own heart your own echoing cage of ribs that lock up even scarier skeletons than the skeleton holding it all together I want to feel you without being with you without holding you without seeing you without constantly thinking of you without wanting you I want to feel you when I am miles away, reading a book with a cup of tea in pyjamas when you are in class and hear something brilliant someone just said, something that makes you stop and think of me without resentment without longing without need without hiding something so simple, so clear and so pertinent something that moves and removes the clutter in you I want to feel you love yourself, the world, the trees, the scrapes on your heartβs knees and me with no want and no need