Blue Snoopy mugs and dark black coffee. You smile and I sip. I fling windows open to clean the inside air. It is negative degrees outside but in my bed we wake up sweaty. Bananas and pomegranate green tea, we read late into the night. Not unusually, I am alternating between euphoria and crises every few hours; the weight of existence is immeasurable. You explain the biology of monkeys and how we choose who our children become. I wonder about who I have become. We lay on the pink and the blue rugs and your body lowers slowly onto mine. You say you want a life centered around this; I say I agree. My head is too full of you to say anything more. I rub lavender and chamomile oil over my chest. I think of it when I walk outside and wonder if I am as much a part of the earth as I want to be. You kiss my neck from behind and bring me back. I am always coming and going.
I need to write more prose.