six months ago i imagined how your heart would beat when i put my ear there.
this isn't how it's supposed to sound.
i imagined every fifth beat would be skipped - just for the hell of it.
nothing special - except my head fits there - balanced.
at some point slightly after our first spades game (you flipping several cards up as you dealt) i decided i'd find a crack to slip through when you weren't looking.
there are no new year resolutions in this year's journal - on purpose.
i wanted to start this year with no expectations or bars to reach - giving you a head start.
three months ago i figured my head may be too big to fit
so i'd use my hand first.
slow my heart rate to keep the beast from conquering your heart.
i'd get it another way.
the pillow you offer on the cold nights when my apartment becomes too far to drive back to can remain on the bed where i've left several dreams and a few cloud-like configurations.
let's eat whatever it is i cook and discuss sexual partners and why we're each other's exception.
let's kiss between the periods and the first letters.
inhale the rest of my cologne when the commas get to be too much.
"how long you think we can do this?" - you ask.
"until one or the both of us can no longer believe in forever or fiction." - i replied.
you rolled to your stomach and turned your head towards mine: "are you comfortable?"
i remained on my back - staring at the ceiling - silent - knowing your heart was now closer to me: "i'm good"
and i found my side of your bed.
