I know you’re not supposed to say this, but I loved being your secret. Like an entire planet all to ourselves, filled with nothing but the sound of our laughter and sunlight warming our cheeks. A bubble created with the tenderness of our youth. No one could reach us there; your voice always a siren that I never could refuse the call of. We spoke our own language–created an impenetrable syntax, a fortress of dialect that died on your tongue the last time you uttered my name. I survived on the feel of your skin against mine, devoured the crinkle of your nose, gorged on the taste of your lips too many times to count. I bite back the bile in my throat thinking of my greed. We both got carried away. You thirsted for my embrace, swallowed my tongue, got full on the moles adorning my cheeks. Bit off