What if. 

I watched my body light up for your hands after i’d withered the wick down with my own

and

This isn’t love, this is feeling.
This is feeling after the absence of a beat in my chest and i’ve enjoyed the race,
enjoyed the distraction from the catastrophic climate settled above my head, my darling-
here’s to our hands;
holding intimate reactions against our bodies in moments that are made to make us feel something.

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