kissing you was nothing spectacular. there was an extraordinary
lack of explosions, sirens, fireworks. it was simple sweet searching.
it was unsure. it was the tide, give and take, back and forth.
it was you coming forward and running your fingertips along my neck
till you found the spot behind my ear you could anchor yourself to.
it was me making my way from your ear to the corner of your lips,
feeling it lift when i lingered. it was the way you panted when i pulled away,
the way my eyelashes fluttered against your nose as you kissed my chin on accident.
it was your hand on my hipbone, on my back. mine in your hair, on your arm.
it was you and i. it was us.
