we drop halves to watch things flow and we melt into each other,
pretending to fuse as though our incomplete understanding of ourselves can make two one together
three one together, we count down together
okay it'll be better- sitting on the porch smoking a cigarette, the warmth of a summer night all over my skin
breathing in to feel my lungs swell with the poison and toxins i'm letting in
and I know I'm going to die
and I know you're inside
waiting, and i can't move my arms, and I don't know if i can stand
and i love you-but my skin is melting where the cigarette burns closer to my fingertips and my legs buckle like when we first kissed or was it when i first kissed him, or when he waved from the sidewalk as shivered from within
this december or last june, it doesn't matter.