(i don't know what to do with myself when you're asleep. my hands seem small and white and they hold on to air. it is as though my body is thrown into sudden disconnection. my body is thrown aside and cut apart from the rest of the world. the rest of the world, as i remembered it to be. i lie beside you and watch you breathe. i inch nearer to you and feel your breath on my cheek- soft, warm and moist. sometimes i want to be so close to you that it frightens me. so close that there is not a single gap between us. my head resting in the space between your neck and shoulder, your arms wrapped around my waist, our legs entwined, skin on skin on skin on skin. i start recalling and forgetting certain things, sketching various faces in my mind, brushing them aside, retracing those same faces, erasing them and correcting them, erasing them until all the things we ever did or said, which we so painfully regret, are smoothed over and out. i wash every single sharply stinging detail out with layers of colour, each colour deeper and darker than the last, until i sink into the sweetness of sleep, your breath on my cheek, your arms around my waist.)