On nights like this, oh darling on nights like this, I would press my head across your chest, and listen to the quick beats of your heart.
They’d come in steady thrums, powerful and echoing, and beating down on the floorboards that home my brain. I could count them, retrace the patterns like my footsteps walked the same path. They are needy, greedy little bumps, they eat up all my time. I am consumed by them. I had come to believe I was one of them; an inkling of crimsoned sawdust. Your hand that lies flat on my side, are the teeth that rake the measures of my cadency.
I am one with you, on nights like this.
On nights like this darling, we are one.