I'm half in love with... the tingles in my arm. Watching skin contract and stiffen. Is that a word, stiffen? It doesn't look quite right. Stiffen stiffen stiffen. It feels alien. Like detached, I'm unsure. Like that funny thing we do. Stare right into each other, but not through, not too deep. Just enough to see ourselves staring back in the other's left pupil. Hold it, say your name. Again again again. Until it doesn't make sense. Until you feel it unravel from you. Until it drops. Until you don't recognise it. Then stop. Take it back, shove it back in. Like it never left.
I'm finally spelling Philadelphia without a spell checker.
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