Her

I am alive when i touch you. Through fiber optics and heart stained paragraphs. In the middle of nothing with my chocolate milk and my empty eyed fingertips searching for something to better myself.

I keep dreaming of you asleep. With your stars on the wall. I want to touch you, but you are water color and finger paint. You are there and warm,i am here.

Hooked up to the machine. My arms are sewn in and your veins are creeping out. Like fireflies in the rain with my electric blood and your warmarm, synthetic touch.

This is how i know you. This is how we breathe. This is how the world keeps turning.