We’re rushing into cabs, laughing with all the air that our pathetic lungs can muster and we’re falling into each other and kissing each other’s noses and we’re lying on white bed sheets when the first clear pictures of Pluto are released and you turn to me and say “You’re the most beautiful planet I’ve ever seen.”
The first time we kissed, it was the safest I’d ever felt in another’s skin. We weren’t in love. We just thought we were. He burnt his language into my skin.