something like falling down a flight of stairs
this is
a moment squeezed between two cold hands and
the taste of fresh, timid lips
this is
a gunshot on a silent night and shared cigarettes
giving off an aching glow
this is
wide eyes dilated with hidden lust and
tense telling of lewd intentions
this is
hearts beating too quickly for our blood
knees weak, near syncope
this is
uppers, downers, inners, outers
coursing through our touch
this is
breath taking and
out of control
this is
madness
this is
lovely
but
this isn’t
love
