you and me, we don’t talk so much, so we tell each other stories with our hands, and with timings, and laughs. we tell each other stories about what it used to be like when we remembered how words worked, in the before now. whatever it’s supposed to be call.

it goes good for us. we sit in the dark and it’s warm cause that’s a way to be fine. a way to live in the world. we make it for and with each other. it’s a little weird for me cause i’m used to talking about everything. when i was a kid i got my ears talked off though and now i don’t know how to hear, so we just look at each other with our big ol eyes.

sometimes we try to talk but it just sounds like crying and that’s why we learned to be quiet together. the only things we remember how to say are im sorry and please and i love you and thank you. i lie my head in your lap and you use your hands to tell me where to go with my body. i touch your hair and what comes out of you isn’t said, it’s feelings, or a thought, or something that was inside and wants to know the outside. you and i wait for the precious moments of each other’s embraces at times we thought the other one forgot. we always remember when we’re together. i sometimes see you when you think you're alone and when you notice you get scared. but i lay my palm on you and you feel safe. that’s when you remember. i wish i could always be close to you and forget the rest of the world. it’s happy when it happens for a second. but the things always comes back and we always go out and we forget what each other are like until we come back again and we remember and it’s new like it was the first time. but i’ll always tell you it’s true, with my hands. because i always come back to you.