How curious it is, that feeling
that dissipates with the subtlety of
evaporating sweat...It leaves behind the
remnants of sweet kisses, fluttering
heartbeats, leaves behind the bitter
taste of swallowed words. I’ve
wanted open my mouth with the
truth of this union; that it’s nothing
more than a crochet of the delicate
threads of white lies. The
strenuous pumping in my bosom
no longer flickers, ceases it’s work
for the moment upon first sensing
your arrival. What does it mean?
it asks of me when the cool breeze
no longer meets moist happiness; instead,
the smooth surface of a dry heart.