When the summer had just started you told me you don’t like rushing in, I told you neither do I. But then you rushed in and I followed without hesitating.

Now I’m stuck on you, reading and rereading every secret you trust me with every detail you pour on me. The simplest words can turn my heart into a thin paper dancing restlessly to the music of the wind the music of your voice of your soul.

Sometimes, I just smile. I worry that if I open my mouth I’ll say something crazy like “I think I love you” and I worry that if I don’t, I’ll do something crazy.
In the heat of the silence it all seems so simple, holding you in the dark so close to my body all I’d breathe in is your breath and your love. I’d dive my teeth in your neck, inhale all your worries all your fears. I want to feel you move underneath me, feel your heartbeat, feel the sand beneath our bodies and the gaze of the stars on us.

Now I’m more aware of the proximity of the winter and I worry that the distance will make you realize that we did rush into glorifying each other’s beings, that you’re way too good and we’re far too different.
You want a good life, I want it all. I want the corruption and the poison and the purity of being so vulnerable to your own desires. I want to get myself dirty, then purify myself.

Oh god, how I pray that as the seasons change none of this changes.