elegant. the fist wraps

my heart beats like wings, fanning
the fire - butane
blue - in your eyes. my pupils
burn like moths, eager to learn
the flecks
in yours. i am lost;

this visual lip-lock tastes like ocean
but feels like sand-
paper. my body cries,
my eyes perspire. funny
how sweat and tears conspire to feel

the same, taste
the same, look
the same. you

burn
elegant. the fist wraps
at the inside of my ribs, it begs
to be set free