things i'd normally read into answering machines on a day like this one

Sometimes I think the love I have for you might be like the violence of the sun. Life giving and destructive in the same breath of space. Volatile. Unbound. Ever changing. Even now, I long for the liquidity of you. The way it might feel to pour you into a hot tall glass and drink you down. Savor every last imperceptible moment of the full sense of you. The way your hair might feel between my fingertips like violets. The intersections of the sounds of our laughter enclosed within the walls of the same dark room. Greedy. Palpitating. Lush. This invaluable luster like the memory of remembering.