You let them make a home out of the space between your lips and made sure to blanket them with the heat of your flesh. You didn’t stop to think that there might not be enough room for two in your skin. The body is meant to hold only one, but one is a solitary number that often haunts the lonely. You pulled and stretched and compromised yourself just to feel a little bit less isolated. The way they moved became your favorite poem and you wanted to ink-press their words into your bones. There were flowers in their footprints and tidal waves in their touches. You would have taken a garden in your hair and a tsunami flood your bedroom if it meant they wouldn’t leave you behind.