i love him- it feels unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. i wish my grandma was here so I could tell her about the boy from New York who has long dreadlocks and does art and reads insightful novels and does yoga. i want to run into his arms; squeeze him tight. i want to lock my lips together with his full lips and sigh a great sigh of relief. i want to trace his body with my fingers and i want him to paint me white. i’d live in Greenwich village for him. only for him.