sensory deprivation

during the milliseconds before your hand grabs my shoulder--
your skin, hovering above mine, suspended in time as it slows.
i feel your presence, heat and energy
before you've even grabbed me.
an electrical storm
where your hand is a cumulonimbus cloud
and my shoulder is a meadow,
my vellus hair straightening in response to the static.

when you make contact, the cells beneath my skin shift--
scraping together like the plates of the Earth,
creating an earthquake that sends shockwaves through my body,
away from the epicenter of your fingerprints.

no words, nor actions, not even years, could ever convey how much you mean to me.

but i still try.

if my blood was love, my heart is too full.
it overflows, flooding my chest; drowning,
from the outside in-- pleural effusion.
it hurts a little, but in the good way.

when i smell you, the entire outside world melts away--
melts like a person's skin after a nuclear blast,
melts like butter on a hot skillet,

melts

like a single

lonely

ice cube

in a cup of hot chocolate,
faster than a sex-starved, sex-addict takes off their clothes in a hotel room.

all the deafening background noise of life becomes muted
and my vision shrinks to a tiny pinprick black tunnel.

everything, gone in an instant
and we're left alone together in the dark.

if i awake in your bed, alone,
i roll onto your side and encase my body in your duvet
become a soft,
white,
pure
cocoon. a marshmallow chrysalis.
in this tomb of your discarded molecules, it feels like the ghost of you is holding me
and i swear i can feel the specter of your touch and your breath.

and maybe most importantly
when we laugh together, it feels like the innocent gigglefits you get on acid
when everything in that moment is beautiful
and right
and perfect
and everlasting.