World lies within your body. That high and low part that makes the world seem so perfect they don’t crook in any way, the freckles on the back of your body, the dimples of your spine, the red marks on your knuckles that was always there everytime you hit them to the walls in frustration, the mole on your nose that people always mistaken as a pierce.
I’ve loved them like a part of myself. I’ve traced them and I’ve remembered every piece of them like the back of my hand. I’ve known you forever. And I’ve never stopped loving them since.
Maybe it was the first time I caught you smoking weed back in eight grade of school, when I was worried sick that you’ll get caught. But you shushed me and told it’ll be fine. So I sat there quietly, watching over your high self. And the later when I think of it, I think I’ve never loved anyone the way I’ve loved you that I feel like I always want to take care of you for the rest of my life.