Are you seeing this lightning and thinking about morning yoga? Our version of supported savasana. I’m thinking about the way you kissed me on 9th ave and how every time you’ve put your lips to mine the broken parts of my heart said “not yet”. Have I told you that I hold on to people so tightly I squeeze the life out of of them? I love so deeply I spend years trying to figure out how to find what we lost that I wear holes in myself and in everything around me before I let go. Have I scared you yet? Because you put cracks in the most refined parts of me. Isn’t this too much too soon? I don’t know who you are on Saturday nights in crowded bars but I know your chest beneath my cheek in bed and my face buried in your shoulder on street corners or in the back of a cab and so the rest doesn’t seem to matter. And maybe that’s crazy, but I’m that too. Crazy about cheeseburgers, and tea cup pigs, and men that I can’t control.