a rather small bed

la gran variedad de sentimientos que una sola gente sabe acumular en su pecho entre su torax y
sus nipples es extraordinaria. unless you're chandler bing. and it is the reason we call ourselves humans.

warm bed. yumminess.

will be there for me whenever i forget undisclosable truths that has nothing to do with me but for some reason sting.

garden variety feelings. not as pleasant as the previous warm bed sentence.

i'm mixing apples and bananas here. and it's not funny.

pineapple and whipped cream.

tomatoes and tomatos.

bla bla and bla.

the warmth of his body while he reaches for me in his sleep will make me forget it.