running yrself down to empty like it's just to prove a point about how you don't need anyone's help to fill you up again. sillygoofysexdrunkgrinningwide falling all over ourselves grasping clutching at skin that flushes with the blood rush to your head to your core to your fingers i measure the distance to you in street numbers 12th to 21st and three blocks west, alley entrance to the basement suite, second bedroom to the left and we twist and turn and stay up all night and it never seemed like much to you and it never seemed like much to me and it's not much at all anyways is it really but what matters is the rush from holding your breath a little too long, from standing on your head, the heat stroke and the 420 stairs and our bodies pink in the sun, burning so we can't touch.
what matters is we're burning so we can't touch.