ma told me to count my senses when i have anxiety attacks. i told her okay.
one.
i see his eyes. they're blue and green like the earth itself. his stare should make me feel grounded but it only makes me uneasy. it's been too long since he told me he loves me.
two.
his cologne is long faded. he smells like cedar and i can tell he's been sweating by his boyish musk.
three.
fingers against my skin. they're calloused and hard from years of work. they're much larger than mine and they're running up and down my body, like he's feeling for something. i can't help it that my back arches when his hands brush past my waist. i'm ticklish.
four.
his lips. his tongue. they taste sweet, and i can't tell if i want to pull away or be pulled in.
five.
muffled voices upstairs and the highway outside the window. his low breath, inhaling unevenly. his playlist ended long ago and i miss the beat of the music. it sounds too still to be comfortable.
