i don't know

our battle IS a spiritual one, but as i stare into the beauty eyes of what might've been but couldn't, i still stare, proceed with think, and wish i could feel a hug and i almost feel the sensation down my spine, but i still stare and feel the pain (, the feeling of beauty of hold eyes on looking glass) and all of what this is that i couldn't characterize of this still-small-world that i am and have always been in touch with, held in by, me. yet.. i stare and what i hesitate to call anything or give a name

yet i stare and it hurts and it does what it does to me, what i can't talk about, yet i stare at you and wish to kiss your lips and hug and wish for my brain not to hurt


and i wish i could remember a song from when we shared bodies, hidden intimacy; holding well defined backs so tight.