I think there is a term when you love something so much that you want to crawl inside it. You can't get enough. You open your hands, mouth, and thighs to make as much skin contact as possible. Even the moon pulls you closer, magnetically charging a full embrace. During this connection, the two of you become soft and porous, like the surface of the liver. Soon your boundaries are indistinguishable, the edges not certain and always changing. You absorb the rocks heat and history while offering a body of full devotion. No one sees them like you do, and for that they provide a home to your soul.