dear delight,

the distance from the ridge, of the whorls of my fingerprints to their base. is warm and charged. if there are senses for these things: other than that handful sightsmellhearingtastetouch. name the one for an invitation. to the polite millimeter between your skin and mine.

and apprehended. if i know you saw me laughing and you know how to find me.

the small conversations. are illuminating. enchanting as the next step in a miner's light. as inevitable. as rushing, gently. dear delight. i would not stroke your skin but.

i would surprise that giggle from your mind. and know what you mean by red.

dear delight.