let me love an artist so we can breathe in each other's fumes and get high off of creation and wonder. let us spill out paints and ink and words and ideas onto a wooden floor and watch as it's corroded and falls away, level by level, until we're so deep that we're reaching into the dirt that surrounds us and slapping it on canvass like cavemen once did. let you see me fully and not as the crazy girl who can't stop hooping and dancing and moving long enough to see straight, understand that when i run from face to face it's not because i don't want to love you so hard that i'm exploding, it's just that if i don't look into new eyes once in awhile i shrivel up and begin to fade. let the world look at us and understand nothing, but feel a strange sense of desire to be so unique and drenched in the secrecy of the tiny universe we've created between us to house the wild way we wander over this earth, documenting piece by piece through our hands, eyes, and hearts.