We've been arguing more than we ought to.
About things neither of us remember or care about cause that's how we avoid the bigger questions.
Instead of asking why we don't say I Love You to one another as often as we used to.
We fight about things like:
Who was supposed to get up and turn the lights off first.
Or who was supposed to pop the frozen pizza in the oven after work.
Taking hits at the most vulnerable parts of one another.
We're like fingers on thorns Honey.
We know exactly where it hurts.
And everything is on the table tonight.
Like that one time you whispers a name I'm pretty sure wasn't mine in you're sleep.
Or last week when you said you were working late.
So I called work but they said you'd already left a couple hours ago.
Where were you for those couples hours.
I know.
I know.
Your excuses make all the sense in the world.
And I get a little carried away for no good reason and eventually begin crying.
But what else do you expect Baby.
I lose you so much.
I'm sorry I though you were lying.
That's when you hold your head with your hands in frustration.
Half begging me to stop.
And half tired and sick of it.
The toxin in our mouths has burnt holes in our cheeks.
We look less alive then we used to.
Less colour in our faces.
But don't kid yourself.
No matter how bad it gets we both know still wanna nail me to the ground.
Especially when I'm screaming so loud our fighting wakes the neighbours.
And they come running to the door to save us.
Baby don't open it.
Instead.
Lie me down.
Lay me open like a map.
And with your finger traces the places you still want to F*** out of me.
Kiss me like I am the centre point of gravity and you are falling into me like my soul is the focal point if yours.
And when your mouth is kissing not my mouth but other places.
My legs will split apart out of habit.
And that's when.
I pull you in.
Welcome you.
Home.
When the entire street is looking out their windows wondering what all the commotion is.
And the fire trucks come rolling on to save us but they can't distinguish whether these flames began with our anger or our passion.
I will smile.
Throw back my head.
Arch my back like a mountain you want to split in half.
Baby lick me.
Like your mouth has the gift of reading and I'm your favourite book.
Find your favourite page in the soft spot between my legs and read it carefully.
Fluently.
Vividly.
Don't you date leave a single word untouched.
And I swear my ending will be so good.
The last few words will come.
Running into your mouth.
And when you're done.
Take a seat.
Cause its my turn to make music with my knees pressed into the ground.
Sweet baby.
This.
Is how we pull language out of one another with the flick of our tongues.
This us how we have conversation.
This.
Is how we make up.
