My heart does a blackflip, my mind a turnaround. One shrug, one smile.. That laugh, some sound. Peculiar likeness to a time.
Like a jolt, a current of realisations running through my skin, buzzing through my thighs, my arms, my insides. Some particular high.
Like the moment before a kiss, endless wait. Too soon, too late.
Is there a purpose to madness? Some sickness, some sadness. Ethereal gladness, a heart full of hadness.
Lose a poem, choose a poem.