At the height of it, “I love you” is directionless. Words exit one body to enter another, but we’re too clever now to consider ourselves contained. I am here and you are there, and that’s it, that’s enough. Our intersection becomes the divine.

We don’t need to say I love you, but we do. We don’t need to be shaped like this, but we are. Things — suddenly things, we’re suddenly things — we can’t get enough of.

Our time, our space to play. Here and there. The frame disappears within the picture. I’m always looking for you and I’m always finding you. Here and there.