it wasn’t butterflies perched tremulously in my liver
more like a plague of crickets thunderously serenading
what to drown out the silence?
of course -
I’ve learned star-crossed lovers die prematurely
amidst sorrowful fanfare and iambic pentameter
so no,
no delusions of angelic heralds and cupid song preluded
that
touch
of
lips
on my cheek just a tingle and a breath by my ear can he hear me inhale a blink and its gone
all the air gone to my head stranded lungs marooned on dry ground
ground beneath my feet; that’s what i need, i need
to cling to with scrunched up grasping toes in my boots with the silver laces
dont fall up through the ceiling into the gasp of sky
clinging
still
to the scuffed linoleum floor
where our shadows touch blushingly under the fluorescent light
bear shy witness to this kiss