“You’re still the green-grey eyes, the laugh that warms me. You’re still the unbrushed hair. And I promise I’ll run my fingers through the tangles. Promise I’ll kiss every lonely strand, every broken follicle. Until you can taste the forever on my lips.”— Marisa Donnelly, tcat.tc
“I called you last night. Because I saw the picture, because I wanted to know if your voice still sounded like Saturday mornings with closed blinds, an old truck with the windows down on the highway in the sticky-hot Western sun. Yes, you did. Your voice brought me to all the places I’d been searchin…”— Marisa Donnelly, tcat.tc
“Maybe we’ll always be connected across the expanse of space and sky, and when I lift my head from the pillow, you’ll feel my energy too. You’ll wonder why you’ve felt so restless ever since I left.”— Marisa Donnelly, tcat.tc
“Our connection is paper thin—or, like sutures, weaving through the sinews of my heart, stitching fragments of you to me, of me to you to your chest cavity, laying claim, filling those hollow spaces, making you whole so you won’t miss me, haven’t missed me since I’ve been gone.”— Marisa Donnelly, tcat.tc
“I wonder if you know I still think about you every time I drive the gravel backroad where we first kissed, electricity between us sparking white against that night sky like fireflies.”— Marisa Donnelly, tcat.tc
“you were the only man who made me believe even those born to run might learn to slow down.”— Marisa Donnelly, tcat.tc
“You will always remind me of late nights on I-35, Three Musketeers bars melting chocolate all over my fingers and you laughing, leaning in to kiss the sweetness from my lips.”— Marisa Donnelly, tcat.tc