Embracing love and connection

In sleep, goosebumps serenade my skin and your whispers gild the frames of each thought pressing through my lungs. In this dream, I have finally beheld your eyes. I finally know you beyond the brush of your fingertips, the sweet tendrils of silk that is your hair cascading against my neck, knotting with my own. This is slow. Each facet of these moments do not yet cluster until we evaluate their contents and measure the acidity of the other's venom. In your lap, I draw invisible patterns across your forearm, as you teeter very slowly. I calm to the thudding rain. As once, it was steady as your pulse, now pushing alongside its passion with a fever I haven't known. With the traces I paint across your flesh, I find I am contagious with these goosebumps because they leap to hug you, too. Your lovely voice molds into the melody of the wind, in perfection, it carries along these walls to consume the cold dark of night. That lovely voice is indeed more comforting than the drowsy chills and blindness of nocturne.

~ Memory

 — with Yasuyuki Kawagoshi.