We wake up on fresh, crisp sheets that are clean from the wash and slightly damp from our heat. My pores become wetlands and my skin is slick, sweat is like an adhesive bonding us together. My palms rest arched with your shoulderblades, my fingers splay like wings and your body moves rhythmically. If I couldn't feel you pressed against me, I'd swear you were flying. I'd swear you were coming down. I'd swear you were coming to save me.

I make breakfast while your hands cling to my hips like grips and cartoons rage from the TV like an inferno through the entire house. Anvils drop on coyotes like my heart into my stomach, like eggs into the pan, like me on to you. Everything is reminiscent of last night. My hands wrap around the pan handle like yours around my waist, your mouth sucks on the straw like my bottom lip, the sun colors the walls with warmth like the undertones of your skin.

This distance is not impenetrable. One day you will up and leave only to return again, one day I will fall away only to find myself landing with you. Though this becomes increasingly difficult to harbor, I will live through it, I will live through to you. We are going to fall asleep with the moonlight streaming in the blinds with our legs entwined, forgetting whose body is whose and not caring enough to find out. We will wake up at staggared times throughout the night wondering how much verity this night has, how real this could possibly be. Because. The only way to measure something incredible is to compare it to something that doesn't exist.

This doesn't exist and right now, this is what I am comparing my life to. I am comparing my life to an endless relationship with someone. I am comparing my life to a lack of limitations, a twin sized bed with clean sheets and twin bodies, being attached at the hips and the lips and fingertips. At this moment my life pales in comparison to tangled eyelashes and limbs, calloused fingers scratching at creamy, milky skin. My life is nothing when I think about cupping your jawline in my hands, or feeling you hard against the back of my body. But. Soon. Soon I will broadcast in technicolor and I will never pale in comparison. You will compare this script to my life. You will compare these words to my life and they will pale. I will be the sunlight, diffusing through the blinds and laying warmth on your walls. I will become what doesn't exist only. I will begin. To exist.