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8.5.06
hey boy
i love you.
you know really i actually do. even though sometimes just normal things or sad things or petty things get in the way or just fly around infront of it like a cellophane moth sticking to the tv show you really LIKE, even though, i still deeply love you. i remembered that time we talked for hours about depressing things and it's just nice to hear someone who thinks like me in an unfamiliar way.
it's always been like that for me, we've been so.. fitting, for/with/to each other but we've never, ever had to shove it in each other's faces or only had our lo-hove to talk about. i care about you as an actual person and i think that's so good it makes me feel just, proud, to have you under me (not like that but that too) and around me and in the back of me like, a bookmark you keep at the back until you need to mark a place. and the places are specal times i remember. which really is all of it.
you make me feel like i dont even know anymore when we're together im so, me and normal and me that i cant even tell where the physical space between us is anymore or if it's shrunk so little we're one big duvet kind of soft mess or if we are puzzle pieces that go clop like a big puzzle and youre the box you keep me in. sometimes when you touch me my sleepy head fills with colours and images and little scenes from imaginary plays like we hold hands and i get:
brightly coloured plastic things for children, turqouise, yellow purple black in the sun.
and you stroke my back and my shoulders and i get layers of brown and mint and pink spread like a kite taking off.
so, you make me trip. a touch from you brings a red shape from sleepy smoky darkness and you make me trip until everything all these images appear like tiny fireworks in my subconcious lying in your room like a big bath of you and your stuff and i trip.
whispered by killa b at 9:12 PM |
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