We make love with loud laughter and morning voices. With arcane apologies and face-cupped sleeps. We make love with our eyes dancing to meet each other across a crowded room and playing piano keys with my fingers while our hands are embraced. Every ache I have for you adds to it an increment, and I find that my fantasies are just adventures I want to go on with you to find more things to add to our trail mix of memories. I still need the stars because I need to do everything on earth with you and then some, but know that you’re the only reason I need anything more than you. We are enough – all the poems of other peoples dreams and realities in a concentrated cough syrup to soothe the aches I have for you. We don’t have to touch but we make love and I will embezzle your attention to make a currency in aureate messages just to buy it back again. Whenever I am reminded of you, we make love and I’ll find you everywhere -in everything- just to do it again. 

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