youve spent the last few months winding yourself in neat bows around my tongue. so that when you smile i find it snarled and tangled behind my teeth, twisting inexplicitly against the roof of my mouth. i find it hobbled and tripping, the words coming out in odd jerks and stumbling phrases.
i have always been articulate but when your mouth twitches into that crooked grin, i find that you have stolen my tongue and left me mute and wide-eyed in your wake.
and youve done an excellent job of lodging yourself in the air bubbles of my joints. so that when you touch the small of my back, i find my knees giving out and my arms going limp, trembling as the nerves smoke and overheat to leave my circuits fried and sparking. i find my limbs turning to sand so that i have to lean against a wall to keep from dissolving and running through your hands to pile at your feet.
i have always been athletic but when your skin becomes a livewire against mine, i find that you have stolen my muscles and left me paralyzed and greedy in your wake.
and youve managed quite well to worm yourself into the not-so-empty crannies of my heart. so that when you show up with a bouquet of sunbeams haloing your face, i find it constricting and exploding, reconstructing to your pulses rhythmic pattern. i find it swelling and blistering, growing stronger as it swims against the heat of your tides, slowly able to handle the marathon of catching and running with you.
because you see, i have always been independent but when you breathe the same air, i find that you have stolen my heart and left me dry-veined and hungry in your wake.