forty-nine hours ago: we were pressing fingers together through frosted windowpanes, laughing at our reflections and sticking out tongues through frost-bitten teeth. we were gently whispering through the snow to kiss the glass, the intimacy of our own breath steaming down our throats never able to take the place of what we imagine itd be like to breathe each others carbon dioxide.
thirty-five hours ago: we were running down fields clutching dandelions between our fingers, throwing our heads back to expose our neck to the whipping wind and trusting it not cut the slender expanse of it. we were tumbling down the grassy knolls and landing in the middle of the wheat, in the middle of the cerulean pond, in the middle of danger, in the middle of something we didnt know how to tag and label.
twenty-three hours ago: we were diving into the belly of the sea and trying to filter out the saltwater with our tongues. we were curling up in coral and seaweed, anchored safely and floating recklessly. we were swimming towards one another but never reaching, fingers tense and stretched out but finding nothing but scales and silt under our nails. we laughed and said this emotion was like a game we couldnt do anything but lose.
seventeen hours ago: we were flinging ourselves off of the roofs of buildings to see if this new feeling could make us fly. we were racing off cliff edges to see if this bubble of happiness would simply grab the wind with sturdy wings and float. we were arching bodies into the wind, shoulder blades kissing together as we plunged to earth, to water, to reality. we let gravity win this one, but we both agreed nothing was as exhilarating as that fall.
six hours ago: we were scrawling words over our arms, taking sharpie to record the poetry up our calves and curling around our thighs. we were saving our names for last, carving them on each others chest, touching two fingers to the skin and hoping with everything we had that the ink would bleed through the flesh and stain the heart. we both had to get dressed and leave but when we went our separate ways, we knew what was under the cotton and denim.