We would starve, before.

When I awoke,
I couldn't remember
any time before this.
White washed
and streaming live, the
transparency of reality
was lifted from my eyes,
quiet and insecure,
your hands resting
against mine,
fingers slipping,
reaching, for a dream.

Strange silence trickled
through the winding corridors
of veins and capillaries
that wanted to connect,
grow, mutate,
fuck.

My words evolved
in your mouth, confusing
and riddled with
subliminal messages,
pressed against your lips,
and starving
for a little stability.