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i. we make love in the back of his mitsubishi and my heart is clinging onto the dips of his collarbones, the curve of his crooked grin. he has a cigarette to his lips, and i'm wishing that cigarette was my mouth instead. i don't say it out loud (he'd only laugh at me). but i think he sees it in my eyes because he tosses his cigarette aside and leans down to press his hot mouth against mine.
ii. his tongue is a serpent but he never lets the poison touch me. he tastes sweet, like cough syrup and smoke and i can feel him in my veins, coursing through my heart. i forget how to breathe.
iii. he's too cool for me. too godly. too bright. too much to fall in love with. and yet the only word that tumbles out of my mouth when his teeth skim across my skittering pulse is his name.
iv. my heart is a chinese firecracker and he's a cigarette lighter.
