Being

I want to feel you coursing through my veins. I want to vibrate as you rattle me to the bone. I want to perspire as you transcend me with your warmth. And I am down on my knees as I realize why all these things make me feel alive. Not quite like the early bird that still misses the worm; or the disillusionment as the lights flood back on, just as you've lit the candles. It's like laying face down on a bed of nails, except that your back is to the floor, gravity no longer a concept as you float, not quite lifelessly, but not quite coming up roses either. Pinned yet still. Not floating, but as each particle of atmosphere spins like the world turns. As all weights in the universe fight for existence and power. As all stars burn to hold their place in this place, As does body to nail bed. As does body to ground. As does body to body. It's all but known in this moment that at any given moment gravity may strike again, And that bed of nails will come crashing down on you, with you. Who? Who were you? Where did you go? Will I see you again? Did you leave with all the parts you came with?