Crave

I’d love to reach around the back of your neck. I’d swiftly endure a thousand floods to nestle on the spot behind your ear where I can smell you best. I want to collide with you ferociously beneath a layer of dust, oil, and toe nail clippings. You don’t care if my hair gets in the way. I let the doughy bits of your eyes fill my vision. I rest my head on your plump, loving belly, listening to the busy bees in your blood. We share spit. I crave our connection.