It is a summer night. We are sat in your bedroom, sticky and warm, limbs entangled into a terrible knot I could only compare to the one in my stomach. I tell you I love you fifty-seven times. You say it back only twice. It doesn't feel like it has any meaning anymore. Maybe I did that to myself. Made the phrase hollow and empty. I say it when I adore you. I say it when I fear you, too. The fear does not matter much. I am bigger than you are, so it does not matter. Take me down to the creek and bury me with the weeds and animal carcass. I will breathe new life into the dandelions. I ask of you this, and you look excited. You smile. You smile. You smile. You smile. You smile. You smile. You smile. You smile. You smile. You smile. You smile. You smile. You smile.

Lets be this way forever, ok?