beautiful you, beautiful me

aren't we special?  please tell me we are special.  i don't want to die alone.  i want to die in arms clasped tightly.  i want to die under hot breath.  i want to die being held together and never being let go.  i want it to end softly and with great love.  aren't we special?  i think we must be.  you are the bits of me that escaped, that flew out in the corners of the world and sang to the most charming worldly clouds, who lived and loved and longed to come back me.  and i am the bits of you that escaped, that swam to the deepest trenches and serenaded the ancient creatures, who lived and loved and longed to come back to you.

i love you.  it's a strange thing.  love.  not what i expected.  not gushy.  not full of low lights and soft music.  not brilliant one liners.  not long pans across exposed torsos and close ups of dilated pupils and the sounds of bated breath.  no.  it is maple leaf covered roads in northern new hampshire and the sound of your guitar and the way my soul sways whenever i hear you sing.  i remember your lungs; i remember your hugs.  i remember being held tightly, transported to someplace where there is coalescence, where i felt altogether content and present. 

i miss you.  part of me run out and searching.  part of you run out and searching.  i put your letter close to my chest.  let your words hug me, clasp tightly around my body.  make me feel special.  make me ready to sleep a while.  sleep a while.  aren't we special?  how very beautiful we are.  beautiful you, beautiful me.