I like the chase, scavenging and how we unravel. Standing naked with all my pores at the door. Waiting for a response, a love, someone to call my home. Where my emotions graze the air, and I’m lying half past gone.

— Dominic Riccitello

I’ll never know if it was figuratively or literally when he said I drove him crazy.

— Dominic Riccitello

I loved everything to anything to everyone who surrounded him. He was perfect. A delusion with a sweet melancholy taste. He was crazy, but he was my crazy and inside, everything felt right.

— Dominic Riccitello

I loved him to death. Then I came to realization with how arrogant he was and instead of falling out of love, I fell harder. Every passing day I fell a little harder, a little faster, and a little sadder. I became anxious, obsessive, hurt, and sad. But one morning I awoke to realize I fell out of it. I loved him. I still do. But I was in love with him until the death of the relationship. Now I just love him. From afar. From the knowledge. From the happiness an individual gave me.

— Dominic Riccitello

I loved you before all of this. When there was nothing. When there was only a single atom in the night sky.

— Dominic Riccitello

I loved you, I did. I believe I even sold myself a bit: on your love, my lust, your hair and just the way we stood there. How the air smelled of you, the way your shirt was cursed with blues. The way we danced by the ocean in front your mini-garden. The white fence, your loveliness and the heavenly kisses. It’ll always be the sheets, lying beside, holding your arm and kissing your hair in a loving stride.

— Dominic Riccitello

I loved you with different words than you knew and that seemed to scare you.

— Dominic Riccitello

I loved you with texture. You loved with a softness. Texture brought detail, softness brought folds. Folds brought creases and creases had secrets.

— Dominic Riccitello

I love him. So much. To the point where you won’t understand. You don’t get it because I don’t get it. It’s there. It exists. Furthermore, it flows. Furthermore, it moves like rapids through my veins. Comes with bursts and occasionally fades with the day, but it’s always there. And when you find love like that, you don’t want to give it up. But sometimes you have to, and sometimes you have to give it to someone else. That’s the hard part.

— Dominic Riccitello

I love you, but I’m more in love with myself and that’s the problem.

— Dominic Riccitello