we’ve been arguing more than we ought to. about things neither of us remember or
care about cause that s how we avoid the bigger questions. instead of asking why we
don t say / love you to one another as often as we used to. we fight about things like:
who was supposed to get up and turn the lights off first, or who was supposed to pop
the frozen pizza in the oven after work. taking hits at the most vulnerable parts of one
another, we re like fingers on thorns honey, we know exactly where it hurts.
and everything is on the table tonight, like that one time you whispered a name i’m
pretty sure wasn t mine in your sleep, or last week when you said you were working
late. so i called work but they said you d already left a couple hours ago. where were
you for those couple hours.
i know. i know. your excuses make all the sense in the world, and i get a little carried
away for no good reason and eventually begin crying, but what else do you expect
baby. i love you so much. i m sorry i thought you were lying.
that s when you hold your head with your hands in frustration, half begging me to
stop. half tired and sick of it. the toxin in our mouths has burnt holes in our cheeks.
we look less alive than we used to. less color in our faces, but don t kid yourself, no
matter how bad it gets we both know you still wanna nail me to the ground.
especially when i m screaming so loud our fighting wakes the neighbors, and they
come running to the door to save us. baby don’t open it.
instead, lie me down. lay me open like a map. and with your finger trace the places
you still want to **** out of me. kiss me like i am the center point of gravity and you
are falling into me like my soul is the focal point of yours, and when your mouth is
kissing not my mouth but other places, my legs will split apart out of habit, and that s
when. i pull you in. welcome you. home.
when the entire street is looking out their windows wondering what all the
commotion is. and the fire trucks come rolling in to save us but they can t distinguish
whether these flames began with our anger or our passion. i will smile, throw my
head back. arch my body like a mountain you want to split in half. baby lick me.
like your mouth has the gift of reading and i m your favorite book. find your favorite
page in the soft spot between my legs and read it carefully, fluently. vividly, don t
you dare leave a single word untouched, and i swear my ending will be so good. the
last few words will come. running to your mouth, and when you re done. take a seat.
cause it s my turn to make music with my knees pressed to the ground.
sweet baby. this. is how we pull language out of one another with the flick of our
tongues, this is how we have the conversation, this. is how we make up.
– how we make up