So now we're simply good friends. And of course we'll never be married, but I need to be near you. I need to touch your hands, cold from the wheel, and warm them with my own heat. When you lose your breath, I'll lend you mine, take it from me at midnight when you leave. When you come away from work and are too tired to talk, take my tongue. Let my mute devotion cleanse the years away as you kick out your legs, free from indecision. These are the torrents that drown me. If you dare dive to these depths, bare your neck for my mouth to speak to you, for the rough of my chin on your cheek, once unsure, that slowly yields again.