here i am! there you are! this is us! we are a universe apart, but all I can crave lately is your touch, your finger on my collarbone, my lips on your chin, my cheek to your skin. i imagine the feel would be completely, intolerably, wonderfully, fantastically electrifying. I know you may not know as much, but the very thought of your touch would send chills down my spine, would send me places I’m not sure exist, hazy places, highest heights, and give shivers that not even cold chill on a sweet spine could produce. I’d never ask to slow down, never ask for anything less exciting then the hope of you, the wait for you, the fucking want for you. i am excited, alive, and craving more. this may not be what you expect, the seven months may tend to be repetitive, you may say there’s nothing more to say, but there are days where i feel like this, and oh my god, this is incredible. I want to write you poetry! Write you songs! Lyrics I’d never sing, but pretend were just poetry! I want to set things to music for you, show you how you’ve brought a dulled line into this world again, a steady beep beep beep (have i had too much sugar? am I having a heart attack?) that you could feel, beating between my breasts, beating in my chest - no, more than beating, it’s exploding, boom boom boom, like a twenty gasoline-carrying mac truck on the highway pileup after somebody throws a lit match at it and the entire world is on fire. This is a heat, a fire, and sometimes it dulls, but sometimes, it roars.