There's some sense of things, how do I say, I don't know--I feel it uniquely. As when I have been my self, alone in a car, watching streetlights wash over my hands. As when I a have been amongst the stark folds of almost winter nights. As when I have been pressed suddenly from unkissed, into, kissed.

And how do I describe it? Maybe I don't need to. Maybe you already know.

Who knows, perhaps.