The best feeling in the world is before midnight and fireflies, in the harsh glow of fluorescents, the edges of our bodies dimming to raw. When I tuck my head into the curvature, and inhale the junction of your neck and shoulder where the smell of you is most eloquent. With your left arm around my waist feeling right, the sheen of skin and falling fast, our hearts beating in tandem, breath coming out in white puffs in the desert heat of the room. I close my eyes and listen to our bodies pulse and sync with each other, breathing growing heavier and duller, fairy slumber pulling our eyelashes towards each other and down. Let me stay the night, my breath ghosts down your spine, and let me love in ways spoken words never can.