She imagines him imagining her. This is her salvation.

I would like to be the air that inhabits you for a moment only. I would like to be that unnoticed & that necessary.

O how he loves you, darling boy. O how, like always, he invents the monsters underneath the bed to get you to sleep next to him, chest to chest or chest to back.

I suppose we wear our traumas the way the guillotine wears gravity: our lovers’ necks are so soft.

And he loves her. He loves her like he can never grab enough of her between his fingers.

If her soul ever leaks, I want it to land on me.

Living without her Living at all Seems to slow me down

More frequently I was finding myself sleepless, and he was running out of lullabies.

You don't light me up like you used to.