two hands, two ears, two eyes one mouth, one heart. two hands. to grip sheets in moments of exctasy. to hold you up when the world weighed down. to scratch your back when it got to be too much. to hold your hand in complete contentment. to push away when we were fighting and you were spewing venom. to clutch pillows seeking consolement when you were no longer there. two ears. to hear things you say you didn’t mean and things I wish you had meant now. like the whispered “love you”s and “I’ll always be there”s. “hate you”s and a thousand “sorry”s. your laugh when you found something particularly funny, like cartoons and jokes I’ll never get. the “I give up”s when I pinned you while we play wrestled. to hear “I give up” when you gave up on us. two eyes. that lit up whenever you looked at me. to trace every line and curve of your body. the shape of your lips, your bottom lip slightly fuller than the top. your mouth curved up to one side, smirking when you were up to no good. to helplessly watch you cry when you lost a family member. to watch you walk away from everything we worked so hard to build. one mouth. to kiss you as if it was the only thing keeping me alive, stealing each others oxygen and returning it. to say things would be okay when ever you had a bad day. to moan when you’d drive me over the peak. to yell when you’d frustrate me beyond belief. to tell you all my dreams, dreams that included you. to beg you to stay. one heart. still aching but still beating. two hands, two ears, two eyes, one mouth, one heart. you, me, and what used to be us.