Deciding what to wear when he sees me again. He’ll be here in about 3 hours. Kinda feels like I’m going to burst out of my skin: my me, my chi, is rushing forward in time trying to liquidise the solid minutes and hours that stand between us. If I could, I’d leave my rooted body behind; I’m straining through my stationary skin. I am so ready to touch him that my stomach just flipped when someone brushed past me. The accidental butterfly touch gasped me back to my body; the rushing away of the sea from a beach as it builds back into the next crashing wave.

I miss you with each
molecule & its quantum
twin. Please be here soon.