a crush.
called a crush, my nerves really crush.
my words tumble up, and I make no sense at all.
from eloquent to a fool.
I say less than I think, because what I think, I'd love to say.
there's a small miracle from every fragment you gaze.
the hairs on her arms,
size of her thinned lips,
the gasps you take when she takes your arm, and asks how you've been.
she lifts her long, black skirt, strides up the stairs.
Miami International.
you beckon, you secretly, aspire a kiss.
a kiss I've kept an occult desire.
I worried of my lungs closing, my face turning purple, and my insides dissolving & bubbling.
shocking & paralyzing me.
the terminal door is the biggest abandonment.
she turns around, we speak.
no one speaks.
...I'm forsaken with a smile, and a wet neck.
good day.
a good day that was.