“i love you”

he whispered in her ear

gently tugging with his teeth

that tingle started in her toes

and she thought

“is this really all we are?”

his hand slipped between

silk and goosebumped skin

and the tingle leapt upwards again

his neck smelt of cinnamon

cinnamon and stale cigarettes

“i really do”

he whispered into her chest

silence

her back fell to the bed

crisp sheets crinkled

under the weight of teenage flesh

she looked to the left

and stared at the trees blossoming with spring

pink flowers crept close to the glass

reaching with her finger

she tried to remember

walks they used to take

bridges crossing streams

hand in hand

films they used to watch

laughing at the men on the screen

body heat under a blanket

secrets they used to share

childhood memories

adulthood fears

a gasp escaped his lips

crushing her with reality

a peck on the cheek

a rushed redressing

and he was off

no cup of coffee

no jabber over lunch

nothing

and she thought to herself

“this is really all we are.”

surrounded by cinnamon

and stale cigarettes...