personal

allocution

i’m revving up for my getaway route,
zero-to-sixty acceleration clocked at lightning speed
into those gray-and-stormies
for the sole purpose of losing myself
in the thoughts brewing in your head.
choppy and troubling as they seem,
they mirror the same rage and turmoil in mine,
if we were ever forced to blink.
even worse, to look away.

i’m stashing all the little moments,
stocking up for a rainy day when the urge
for the heady whiff of your scent
hits me like peppermint and pine,
like freshly ground coffee, like nostalgia and home,
and all i want is another fix.
i know the junkie in me will crave the madness
of overdosing on the sound of your laughter,
of possessing the sparks in the air
when we find ourselves in the same room,
of losing my senses in the absence of space
between our interlocked fingers,
of setting my mind ablaze with the images of you.

i’m itching to pull off a heist for your kisses,
like those lips of yours are the long-lost buried treasures
destined to feed the hunger in our souls.
steal away the breath of forbidden love
and exhale the gasps and moans
with thrilling words like “forever”
nuzzled in between sheets of “mine”.
or better yet, “yours”.
how i would risk jail time for a mere whisper.

i take a second to revel in the infinite possibilities
of savoring the hard edges and smooth curves
in the nooks and crannies of these consonants and vowels
that spell out our lovely little snippets.
and when all is said and done, they would know
to lock us up and throw away the key,
because inevitably, we would kill
for a shot at replacing “forbidden” with “real”.

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