at fifteen i had fifteen reasons to love you. our bodies moved like broken caterpillars our mouths reached out like children we knew only texture, only colors, the sounds good things make. your fingertips knew more than i knew of my own self i swore we were ancient, carved into slants and shapes that jigsawed perfectly, there was something we discovered only when our mouths touched when words hung above our heads like clouds when we reached out and traced constellations in our skin and we were fading and no one saw. for a time i disappeared and every day was summer, butterflies escaped my shoulder blades i searched breathing pathways with the light blooming from my eyes i was barefoot even when i wasn’t i grew branches that covered me and gave me rest i sprouted blades of grass where my hair should be i hiked mountains made of you, we lay always touching, always facing the same way. i wasn’t me i was yours, i was fifteen years of predictable science melting in thin arms. fifteen is funny that way.