what it feels like

you asked me what it feels like

I didn’t have the word for it because maybe there isn’t
so I gave you several

I told you then that
it’s like when you’re searching for this incredible place that you’ve heard so much about but never been…
and then you open your eyes and realize
you were already there

what I didn’t say
is that this place exists inside of us;
double rooms with a shared door
and a deadbolt that’s been opened before
it takes two to unlock it,
but doors are meant to be opened

before that,
it’s like waiting for the rain when you can no longer stand the heat,
and when it finally comes,
it wasn’t even about the breeze,
but you remember that you forgot that
you really just like the feel of the water against your skin

skin has a memory deeper than itself
it remembers what we forgot –
how to open up
how to hold on
touch doesn’t have to be physical for it to still be felt

I don’t need to tell you how often I think of you,
you’re already in all the margins of my writings –
the scrawlings of the underside of my subconscious breathe in the spaces we’ve created in the distance between us, and
distance isn’t the only measurement of an interval between two people;
distance doesn’t necessarily mean far, but when it does
sometimes the shortest route between two points in time is through the words
i miss you

and somewhere between the thoughts you catch me having,
intercepted not interrupted, my path resets in space,
and I’m hurdling at lightspeed towards your smile’s gravitational pull
because this universe may be big
but this
this is much bigger

when you asked me what it feels like,
even if I took all the words in existence and arranged and rearranged them
until a million and a half strings of paper letters had wrapped themselves around the moon, twice –
I still wouldn’t have the precise words to say

it feels…right.


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