MADLY INSANE.

Here, I’ll drip holy water into your wine. I’ll dig into the soft clay of your body, talons scraping hymns into your fertile soil. I’ll rap my knuckles against the front door of your rib-cage three times and hope you answer my calling. I’ll kiss the soles of your feet, the tender middle of your belly, the hollows of your collarbone; I’ll drink nectar out of them, too. I’ll turn my body lighthouse so you’ll always find your way back home to my arms. I’ll swallow your name down like hot fire and allow you to burn yourself from my core, out. I’ll let my hands tremble for hours as they remember the feeling of each unique ring covering your fingertips. I’ll suck the juice from clementines and devour the rind if you asked me to. I’ll burn down every bridge of yours built on burdens and build monuments to honor your bravery in their place. I’ll brand your name into my brain; make it my daily mantra. I’ll keep you on repeat in my head; no broken record, only an echo: you, you, you, it has always been you.

Remember that you are always making up the future as you go.