i. the english language is lacking, i seek others that i scrawl in scribbles against your skin. te amo. je t'aime. i love you.

ii. i don’t know how to write something raw enough that it feels like you, pressed against me. i don’t know how to push in all of this feeling into letters when i can barely contain it within the sphere of my throat.

iii. when you touch me, i come alive with the untranslatable. i am a system of sparks, all exploding against the night sky, all believing themselves to be suns. 

iv. my mouth is numb with wanting. i test it out on my dull tongue. i don’t know how to say “i love you” with enough inflection that you hear the truth of it, that you understand what i’m saying. i love you. i love you. i love you. 

v. i hold your hand and stare into your eyes and feel myself spilling over. ti amo. je t'adore. ich liebe dich. how do you say the feeling of a sucker punch, the smell of jasmine tea, the bright presence of a body, the magnetic swing of a person you are caught in - the awareness, always, of how close, of how far, of how full of need you are.

vi. we are lying beside each other and making the universe seem benevolent. i find tiny words surfacing on the ocean of my teeth, all too small to be the tsunami inside of me. my hands on you, my heart weak. you were the earthquake that changed the landscape of me. there are mountains trying to escape me.

vii. i love you. te amo. i love you. je t'aime. i love you 

viii. completely.