One-Hundred Days

Your lips pass a secret on to me, as the flesh collide and the breath is passed through lungs heaving alongside beating hearts. You quicken my pulse, something that I have been longing for since I was born, to my heart beat for something more than necessity.
I take your hands in mind and another secret is passed through the interlocking fingertips. I feel the static electricity pass through our veins as bodies connect, the awful edges where you end and I begin are blurred beyond recognition by a secret centuries old, passed down through generations of ill-fated lovers left only to each other.
This secret is hidden in your eyes and it dances tauntingly around your fingertips as they travel across my skin. Your fingers run deep, peeling back the layers of my outer shell I have kept up for ages. The secrets flow from the ripped seams into your open hands. I fall into you to know the other secret that is now so teasingly gracing my lips, and with each second you are near me I feel it more and more, this tantalizing secret shared between only you and me, our lips and our fingers and our eyes colliding and falling over and over into each other.
I have my best kept secrets falling from the unkempt seams of my outer shell that you now hold between your fingers. My secrets tumble onto the sheets below us and you nudge each one with gentle hands, examining them with soft eyes and closed lips. My secrets are now in the open, but your silence keeps them safe inside of these sheets and between our bodies. They stay together, and they keep the soft silence between us alive as you watch them crawl back into the open stitches of my sides and chest. You run your fingers across the broken seams and pull them back together, leaving my secrets in the air around us.
I fall into you as you pull me back, my secrets and open wounds shrinking away from the both of us. My sides and heaving chest heal while my secrets lie in open lettering across the bedsheets. You put your hands on mine and open your own chest, where your own secrets spill and stain the white sheets and clean air. Your secrets stand tall, whereas mine huddle inside the seams and creases of the messed sheets. You take my hand and let me hold your numerous secrets, all calm and soft despite their harshness. They darken the air around us and I promise to keep them safe alongside my own.
We have our secrets kept fall into each other and they lie pressed to each of their own, keeping each other safe and sound in the dim light of morning's break.
We keep each other's secrets safe inside of our chests, where our hands intertwine with each other and keep the ageless secret of lovers alone safe inside our linked bodies.