Mama [m.c]

00

"Mama. We're all gonna die." I sang softly into the crook of his neck.

I kissed his neck. It wasn't a love bite, although I would like too give him one, it's too obvious. I slowly moved my head onto his chest. I felt his chest slowly rise up, then slowly fall back down. Every time he took a breath, I would try to copy his rhythm.

"Mama. We're meant for the flies." He sang. The vibrations of his voice were sent throughout his body. It felt nice, having to feel this vibration, it makes me think. I'm alive. I'm happy. I'm here. I'm happy, I'm alive, and I'm here. I'm here, on a tiny bed, laying under the covers, with this amazing boy. I giggled. It suddenly came to me. His voice was so beautiful, and he wasn't even trying.

His voice was raspy. I loved it when he didn't try to make his voice amazing. Like this voice was just meant for me. I love his voice. I love it. And in this moment, I realized. I love him. I love him.

I love you, Michael Clifford.