“Remember when i slept with my headin a puddle at your feet?It was humility, or atonement.later your ankle was a pillow andfinally you pulled me up and in my sleep iplaced your hand above my heart,like i forgot i didn't live thereanymore”

“I realised you owned me one night in this room. I was singing to you and you were sleeping. You made a little noise in your sleep like you were distressed and I panicked and ran to your side. You grabbed my arm in your sleep and pulled it up against your face and went back to sleep. I didn't want to ever move.”

“You moved my head so that it was lying in your lap. "Keep your eyes open," you said. "Stay with me."I tried. It felt like I was using every muscle in my face. But I did it. I saw you from upside down, your lips above my eyes and your eyes above my lips. "Talk to me," you said. My throat felt like it was closing up, as if my skin had swollen, making my throat a lump of solid flesh. I gripped your hand. "Keep watching me, then," you said. "Keep listening.”

“So that you remember that you kissed my hand, but I didn't kiss yours.”

“Just remember, when your mother’s gnawing my ankle like a furious mama bear separated from her cum, I did it for you.”

“Your song crept over me as I drifted, the room spinning ever so slightly, and I rolled onto my side and pulled up my knees, facing the back of the couch, and put my hands up together by my chin, like your music was a blanket I could gather around me.”