One

Hazel.

That’s all I ever see anymore.

I smell you in my bed, and on my clothes.

I hear your laugh in my head.

What have you done to me?

I’m slurring my words.

When we kiss, the world pieces together.

And things are clear, in the most unclear way.

The world is hectic.

Thrown upside down.

Houses fall apart, and debris floods the ground.

But there is peace.

You are a tidal wave.

You are a hurricane.

You are a mountain to climb.

With the most beautiful view of the chaos that your body brings to mine.

And when you speak

I swear to God the heavens open up and yell to me,

“Watch out, boy. She’s got you now.

Don’t move too much, and maybe she won’t see you blush.”

Cliché, I know.

But it’s those moments I keep.

When your lips move a certain way, or your tongue rolls over your teeth.

When I can feel my heart pounding, from my head to my fucking feet.

That I am suddenly so content, trapped under the weight of what your soul brings.

What have you done to me?