A dark and frozen January night. A slow and meticulously strange dialogue from out of a plodding Coen bros movie. You and I interlinked cozily– stretched accross the couch. Every line of me melds and matches to you. Every place, every space my hand craves– to cup your jaw, to trace the steep and noble line of the bridge of your nose-feels like a landscape I was meant to learn. I adore–the color of your hair and the strong sweetnees of your heart. Your mind is like the depth of the ocean. Your spirit waits for mine.