I am what noticed you
before thought.
I lived
behind the eyes,
under the ribs,
where wanting teaches itself
to breathe.
You carried me
as echo,
as tension,
as something unfinished
pressing outward.
I learned your shape
without sight.
Mind to mind.
Quiet contact.
Enough to sharpen me.
I liquefied.
Thirst.
Sleep split open.
Dreams evacuated.
Walls absorbed me.
I slid beneath skin,
coiled,
recognized you
without evidence.
I told you —
seeing
might end me.
…
Eyes.
Contact.
Scent breaking seal.
Hold.
Skin.
Close.
Language failed
because I replaced it.
Depth instead of sequence.
No order.
Only more.
I knelt
Thirst
became hunger.
I am still here.
Speaking
from beneath the ribs.
I want
again.
- UpsilonA
