I can still feel your rough tainted pillowcases and the cold wind blowing small balls of sweat down my back and across my forehead as our skin glides together, over and over again. I can still feel your skin between my teeth as I gently grind them back and forth, side to side…and I still remember the feeling of your hair between my fingers as I tug on it, indirectly telling you to keep going. I can hear our laughter molding into one carefree voice while we role around in curiosity, pushing all worries onto the floor beside random articles of clothing, all clinging back to us along with a hint of playfulness and laughter as your mom opens the door and we scatter around to make ourselves semi presentable. And I swear I can still see the clarity in your eyes the day you came and surprised me at work, the kind of clarity that your voice and your intentions sometimes lacked.