all of us being cracked open

when i met her i drew her inside myself. i invented her deep charcoal eyes, i dreamed her lovely mouth, her breakable words. everything i like about her is my own doing.
i like to imagine, to dream. different somewheres, different nows. like a whole country of satisfied, happy people. it'd be a small country, maybe an island lost in the sea.
an elsewhere, and they all sit together to watch the light dance between them, inside them, part of everything. they would know, then, that everything is made of light, and darkness is another word for alone.
sometimes they cut eachother open (with kisses and nails and bites and shouts) once in a while. to let the light in. because bodies run out of light. they do. and the easiest way to let it inside again is beaking the skin, making a crack in the structure. i need you to cut me open, let me bleed out and let the light in.