Dan Holden's Creative Writing
My face is a million times more sensitive than yours. A gentle wind feels like a torrent of rain.
Cold attacks each cell and when you touch me, you might as well have hit me because I feel that, too, amplified like a rock concert when I should be feeling a piano solo.
When you yell at me every muscle locks up like the doors in a prison, closing in anger and remorse.
My feet feel every grain of sand that makes way and each grain of wood that snaps.
If you hold me I am wrapped in the warmest wool, if you tickle me I die ninety times in a minute.
A kiss is peyote, it swirls for days, weeks in my head, creating its own reality, changing my chemistry forever.
And if I am with you, the universe explains itself, time is complete, and everything I feel could describe a single snowflake without you.