1. face to face,.
our eyes doing all the talking; golden and calm. if we spoke the words were like the soft rhymes of childrens hand games in the background somewhere, the grip was held in the air around us and all the blood and muscles that god or science put in my heart were stuck in my hands wanting all of yours.
2. our legs under the wooden table
no one else existed but god did they try.
3. driving through woods that wished they were jungles, wet and green, the deer all huddled by a pond, stock-still and staring back at us, them in our dream and us in theirs.
4. the sky was a pink blue, if you can picture that, if you could understand, it was soft and the clouds reminded me of the lava lamps i always wanted in elementary school, it was moving, so were we. i strained to look up and watch it, to watch you, your eyes were like a chocolate fudge brownie and if the grass was hard i never noticed. if god was crying i could only hear you.
5. breathing into a silicone oxygen mask covering my nose and mouth, my eyes feeling like two melting sunsets, closed they were cloudless night skies. your hands would shake my hands, twice you'd bounce them up then down, they said don't go and i didn't want to, i wanted the mask to be you, breathe into me i should have said. when you said my name it was like someone looking for a lost dog, your eyes were big and wet and lovely, my lungs were small and cold, you put your arms around me or i inhaled, both felt the same, indistinguishable.