For I.

Under the warm pillowy cover of night
my hand stirs and reaches for yours.

If we kept sleeping this way, limb to limb,
our palms the interchange of our veins,

our quiet thoughts; or the ones that
scream at us every day, as we walk

by doing nothing but existing; or those
that bark from that endless hallway

of the past, history being a wrong turn;
the point where all of us meets –

I could find myself alighting from
the train to meet you again. It will

be a crowded station, and our faces
bared, in all their audacity and

flush, which is to say that we are
simply put, in heaven: you know where

I will be. Even in our dreams, it will
be that same marble pillar, a flag

nobody in that sea can see. We will
walk there, as we always do,

to feel our hearts’ malfunction;
the long intake of air, drawing it

into our lungs – to nest as closely as
one can to the heart without harming it.

I carry this thought with my blood.
I send it to my palms, and squeeze.

Freewriting Explanation: Every day, Valen shall use 5 minutes to write completely unprompted and uninterrupted, letting the words lead the way. There is no end purpose to each piece, but rather, the pieces are allowed to develop naturally in their own way. The pieces are then uploaded without edits.