How it Feels

he's the laughter of i'm-getting-tipsy.
the blinked smile of the first sip of coffee.
the exhalation when you remove your shoes
after a long day.

being with him makes me
a sunset,
melting, melting, melting,
burning,
melting.
i hope we don't burn out
like the cigarettes
neither of us dare to kiss.

he makes me feel like
melted-chocolate-fingers
on easter,
and halfway through my favourite book,
lavender and pure ecstasy
running through my veins
and i can't turn the pages fast enough
i can never know the story well enough
and i'm melting
and the candle wax is pooling
and the electric current of him is
racing
along my wires.

let's not blow a fuse,
over a torn page.
as it happens,
my favourite books
have the most dog-eared corners.

- j.f.