Body Weight

I want to feel the weight of your limp body as gravity does its best to crush me with it. I want you to let every muscle fiber relax and forget how to work, and let me hold your weight with my own structure. Let’s lay like this for the rest of the day, doing nothing more than existing as pieces of mass practicing equal force distribution. Our two seemingly lifeless bodies will be still while the TV runs marathons of sitcoms in the dark, and every few minutes we grumble out a phrase. Let’s do this until you slide off to the side, and our bodies face each other while our arms entwine like they always seem to do. In our superposition, we are both dead and alive beings, but we exist in our own separate world. And then you kiss me; you pull me closer and whisper in my ear that your world won’t exist unless I’m in it with you. And I tell you that I can’t remember where I came from; I can’t remember the universe I lived in before you came crashing into my life. I was a library and you were the marching band, drumline, and upstairs neighbors coming in to read my stories, good and bad.

It is here, in this position, that we will watch cities burn in the background, and not make any movements whatsoever because neither one of us wants to leave. Every now and then, when I take my eyes off of you for those few moments, I watch the minutes pass by outside as they walk in single file lines like an office cabinet with too much space. The minutes will pass by until an hour walks by, and another, and another, until the night takes a final stroll before leaving.
The day will come, and we will be forced to move before we collapse into a single body. Though we share a single soul, our bodies were made to support each other. Somehow, we will find a way to stand, and say goodbye, and every second I drive away, I will yearn to return to our mess of cuddling. I will wish and want to go back to you until I fall asleep and tell you in my dreams.

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