if i were going to try to tell you everything at once, it would still be just like that, just like how we are talking, except it would be faster, and except you would hear slips of the tongue that lead places where nothing is supposed to fit, but everything would fit there. if i were to let everything spill, it would fall in so many directions that there wouldn't be enough flowers to cover over the stains that it would leave on the counter. but i would try. i would gather flowers and place them on the counter, in the shape of your body, because i want to cover your body in flowers. if i ran out of metaphors, the world would open up (like a clam) and there would be that nervous moment in between things, in between flowers falling from our mouths (because in this scene you are saying everything at once as well, of course) and that moment that marks the beginning of solid, shivering, naked things, things that fall out of my mouth onto my chin. and i would tell you a list of all the "i want to's" and it would begin with "turn you inside out" but that would be wrong. and it would end with something very close to "i want to put my mouth here, and i want to just wait and see what is going to happen after that." as if i didn't know. because i don't know. because this isn't written anywhere just yet. and there would be some moments where i would stop doing anything and start to say something, something like, "there were these two worlds and one was leaving and one was coming, and you slipped in between the cracks," but before i could get two words out you would interrupt me and tell me to stop. and i wouldn't understand why. i wouldn't understand why i was supposed to stop. because i would think that i was about to say something important. something that was more important than what you wanted to interrupt me with. i wouldn't understand. because i'm really that stupid. but then you would convince me. i think you would convince me. i think you could convince me to stop. because there's something in you that hasn't happened before, something that tells me that if i could start by telling you everything at once, everything that happens after that will be things that have never happened before, where no one's been before, and there wouldn't be any stencils to show us where to draw, and there wouldn't be any guides to tell us the way, and there wouldn't be anything on earth that could stop it from happening to us.