when you visited, watching you wash the dishes and how you caressed the plates and emulsified and spared no time in getting every last particle off until it was shiny and squeaky and i could barely hold myself from running to the bathroom

your fingertips dancing on your laptop’s keyboard, it, so lucky, having your grease and sweat and oils coating it week after month after year, dancing in microsteps that would mistype on any other device, but you don’t need any other device, because you have this one, pressing ctrl+shift+v as my bloodflow’s shift becomes uncontrollable

and there was the time i jerked off to the video of you painting your nails because i could see how you stared at them, the intensity of your gaze and surety of your ways as you brushed and brushed and brushed, it was hard to edge twice but i did what came naturally

the twelve second audio clip you sent me of you playing tennis at your local courts where you moaned just a little bit too obviously by accident, outing yourself as someone who’s voice trained a moan by playing porn on repeat, and i play you on repeat, because that's what you are to me

the slackness of your jaw while you’re on the phone with your mother, silently, asklessly begging her to hang up so you can return to your book, the thing from which you are impossible to tear away, the way your eyes lock on it, scanning, line after line, preface into pages into chapters into ending into epilogue, until you finish

and there i watched us, you and i, a thousand lifetimes, a million universes where we take forms again and again to find each other in the rough, finding what it is in each shape, lines blurring into each other while everything comes apart, a reunion of eternities crying out for solace, making warmth of one another and learning the rules of what all can be, shaking while disintegrating, then being drawn out in paintings and song and pure color into actualized coition and finalized peace