"You are not just a name loitering on the tip of my tongue; you’re not the backbone of every thought, but a massive state of mind. You’re the thread that holds my ribs together, stitching me into shape. The blood that rushes beneath my skin remembers exactly where your fingers once touched, pressing your love into my skin as if I am your paper, your fingers are ink turning me into a letter only you and I could read. And I do, I read it over and over. Anxious for the next letter to be burned. This is my skin, for you, a thousand different love letters."