Right now, I don’t remember you ever not being here.
Right now, you’re so indoctrinated in my mind it would take An Eternal Sunshine to get you out and even then I think I’d still make you a combi van bed in my backyard, not quite knowing why.
When the three of us are together, there’s something cosmic going on.
Three forces of nature colliding, comets in space entering each other’s fields and becoming… something. Not just stronger by being together but fused, unable to part.
A diamond hold, a soul hold.
The spindly fingers of love or life or whatever, wrapping around our phoenix cores and smelting them together with dragon heartstring and cobra tooth and unicorn hair, wrapped eternally, indefinitely, unapologetically, without care because there is no care to give because these twin and twin and twin hearts have always beat together.
And yes, we roam, though never out of each other’s orbit, far flung, but on an elastic, tied together. When you shift, I’ll shift, and I’ll shift, too, and this chorus round won’t ever stop, like the orgasmic hum of creation, this force can be heard and felt in far reaches.
And fuck.
I can still smell you even though I’ve showered and I think this will be my favourite scent for a while and I’ll douse it around my house in Byron on overcast days and remember how cold you felt coming back to bed, your mattress on the floor in the front room of a share house you signed the lease on sight unseen and I think maybe that happened because it’s one straight road from your door to mine and this cosmic, universal pull likes to do shit like that.