When we met it was Wildfire. The minute I saw you, something sparked, and I just knew. I knew about the late nights I would spend in your bed, tracing the lines of your profile with my eyes while you worked. I even knew that I would like you – despite your rambling, and your dorky voice. I knew that whatever it was we would have wouldn’t be much, but just enough to keep me there. I knew I would get hurt … but I knew I would still see you anyway.
Week after week after month. With the sounds of Loft Music reflecting off the water from your balcony. I would stare outside your window at the moon laughing at me, and pretend not to care. But the sun shining on my face in the morning would prove otherwise. I just got so lost in the sexiness of the sex, imagining our silhouettes intertwined in the smoke.
In the spring we held hands while I wore no jacket at night. You carried me to bed, and we collapsed like a house of cards holding the weight of my heavy heart on the very top of it. We got high off of lust, and intoxicated from each other’s Skin. Your lips, sending shivers down my spine. Your tongue, leaving trails behind. Forever, would never have been long enough.
So we kissed good-bye. And then I cried. Promising myself to never let the tears hit the ground. 30,000 feet in the sky I felt so low. I bought a dream with a plane ticket, and sold myself out. Now every time I hear Take Care, I want to take cover. Take you in my arms. Then take a minute to remind myself we were never much to begin with.
Ever since then, my love for you has been like dancing on a rooftop in the spring, just a distant memory of a 70 degree night. Hold Yuh bumping in the speakers, and tiny beads of sweat on my chest from winin and grindin until my baby hairs stick to my face. I will replay you in my head until the record stops and the lights go on – or just long enough to play you out.