if i set my teeth into the flesh of your arm and rest there
know that i do not mean to tear it away
only to latch myself onto you
in some more permanent way
i feel your blood on my tongue
but do not fear the hunger in my eyes
i am a wild thing at best
and my love is a violent guest
“I saw this and thought of you” has that wallop of tenderness in it in the same way receiving presents not on your birthday, but because they saw it. And thought of you.
Some version of the phrase What you love, you mention exists. And maybe they have no passion for impressionist painter Mary Cassatt or Golden Age super hero comic covers or Pusheen the cat. But you mentioned them, you made a little speech and maybe feel mildly embarrassed about having ranted about it for a bit long or bit much.
And really, they might not have any kind of passion for art or comics or stuffed animals, they don’t “get it.” But you think of Pusheen, and they think of you, and we are all connecting over entire oceans of self and faulty words, infinitely imperfect language and the inherent isolation of consciousness. Humanity makes symbols of our cluttered, decaying world with every breath.
It’s just a movie, just a toy, just a thing, but we are experts in patterns and understanding what a thing is not. Your mother covers your cut in a Spider-Man Band-Aid because it’s all you talk about at 7. Your uncle buys an entire gallon of green tea flavored ice cream despite the fact you are the only one that eats it. A friend buys you a shirt of a horror movie they themselves can’t watch.
Clumsy words and clumsy minds. The world would go on without ice cream or cartoon Band-Aids. And yet. And yet. We are experts in patterns and attempting to overcome the horrors of self, alone, and consciousness, continuing.
It is not the thing itself. It is this, only this:
“I saw this. I thought of you, I thought of you, I thought of you.”
“you. it will always be you. don’t you get that? if i had the choice between you and a million things i’ve always wanted, i would choose you every single time.”
what if i made you a playlist and you gave me a forehead kiss in response??? what then, huh????