Messages on the Bedside Table

Pareidolia

Your name is like a pool, I dive into the letter O, I touch the tiled floor with my finger, I draw water into my lungs, I won't drown.

When you touch me, it feels like our skins are soaking into one; I observe atoms of two different colors jumping from one body to another.

I hear you say my name and I want to pluck all the stars from the sky and whip them into your morning coffee because you know the flavors that elude me.

I never knew it was possible to travel from Venice to Rio from your mouth to your hips, experience a new culture, learn a new language, and so fluidly.

I would like to turn our energy into a liquid, pour it into a bottle and sell it to others like the most addictive drug.

The only time my ship is anchored in the present sea happens when my head is resting on your lap and you're running your fingers through my hair.

Seeing the two of us is like watching a lit match rekindle a spark from the ashes.

In late December I experienced the hottest evening of the year when you dressed me in the shade of the setting sun and then tattooed your kiss on my neck.

Just look, you must have understood by now: our love is so hard to explain...