it's that time of the day when i'm no longer seeing the world through my eyes, but rather as it is shoved into my face. it is tainted green, and there is dark lighting. somewhere, someone sits and thinks of me. and i can feel it, feel it pulsing through my veins along with my blood. my brain is connected to their brain and somehow, across the distance, i am reaching out and touching his fingertips. he is right here with me and i am inside him and he is inside me, inside my quiet eyes and my pounding heart. i am listening for him everywhere and he is everywhere because he is sleeping inside of my skin, so that when he stirs my body becomes restless. he is the graffiti under the blacklight which glows on the walls of my brain, waking up with me every morning as i open my windows. i can hear him in the thunder and see him in the lightning of the rainstorm that is erratically present outside these walls. he is here and he is there but mostly he is mine and i am his. and i love him.