It is in this embrace that I let you go.

One thousand tomorrows from now I’ll still miss how your skin feels foreign and warm against mine, until movement unites us. Temperature too.

“It’s thermal equilibrium”, you say.

The stabilization of our fever.

Touch bringing parity to our energy. Matched.

I want to lose myself in the architecture of your mind, where poetry is nailed to the walls and science whispers her secrets.

“This will ruin me, and save me”, you say, our naked bodies tangled. Exhausted. The weight of a life expected falls over us - a shadow.

Your head and your heart are rivals and I crave them both.

The jagged edges of expectation take a softer and softer shape the longer we remain in our angle of repose.

In this place we don’t have to whisper our desires, or pretend they don’t exist. Here, morality is what we decide, it sits in this choice we made like a miracle.

Who have I become while laying beside you and how do I keep her?

Lips touching like a barricade to keep in the words that knock, impatient. It is our last hour.

We are polygons of borrowed light refracting brilliance in each other, it blinds the shame. We bow our hearts to what is coming, and what we are leaving.

Stepping out into the sun from the cocoon where we gave in to wonder. We reach for each other.

It is in this embrace that I let you go.