i think that the curve of your shoulderblade saved me. i know that it's too much to expect this love of ours to be transcendent somehow, but it is; every day that passes with you makes of me someone completely new than the person i was before, somehow stronger, somehow wiser, somehow more resolved.

i write you a million love letters that i will never send, though you would probably find redemptive peace in having them. i have lost myself for days in the feel of my lips upon your freckled shoulder, my hands across your back, your cool skin against mine, stifling a fever unbeknownst to us both. something within me aches and you are the only remedy.