I do not know where my skin meets the sea. It catches the sun like a stone, rolling softly off winds from the North and I do not know where the grass is green. I only know that this smile is because of you. I only know that the stars are always more beautiful when you’re beside me and I only know I used to hate being warm until it was you who was warming me. Yet the darkness still scares me to death and the clock ticking on the mantle still sends shivers down my spine. Must I follow? Must I chase every wave that crashes on the shore? Wherever. Locked in a closet stitching apologies out of sweaters. Hearing my mountains of flesh groan out in hunger yet I’d rather be the desert. Rather hide away until my collar bones become tea cups, until my rib cage becomes a marimba, until I finally learn to stop hating the landscape. Why did you move here? You could go wherever, live wherever, love whoever...... but you’re here. My eyes do not tell the story that they should just as my tongue betrays the heart that feeds it. I am not the person I see in the mirror. Nor am I the person I’d prefer to see in the mirror. I am a half-finished finger-painting of fear and I am broken. Are you sure this is what you want? Because I could hold your hand forever and wherever.