fragile.

I want your arms to go all the way around my waist as you breathe into the curve of my neck.

One night, we sang our best Nico impressions to each other. Giggling and eating warm cookies. A winter morning breeze blows the small snowflakes into my hair, face angled down towards the icy sidewalk and I am drifting to your music.

My cheek rests upon your chest beneath a soft white shirt and with every intake of air, your scent (one of clean laundry and sweat) rushes through me.

We held hands for a minute, fear dissipating in liquored clarity, because you seemed to know exactly what I meant. The stars overhead covered with gray, glowing clouds made certain we stayed upon the ground to feel every second of the last day.

I spent the afternoon In red buffalo plaid and eating brisket. Maybe I live in my head up here. Life feels like a game on constant turn ons. Hiding under the covers, safe in the dark, I can't let you find me. I fail at thinking reasonably. Of course, I am trying to.

I am naked aside from the two bracelets that clink together around my small wrist.