I bite your lips, and I sing your songs, and when the moment feels just right, I give you all of my yeahs. Is it a nice gesture, or am I being seedy? Is this a storm or is it just one of those things? Did we meet by chance and there’s nothing more to it, or was there something at play the likes of which we’ll never begin to understand? Whenever we touch, there’s this charge, and even when we don’t speak and hate each other’s guts, it’s right there where it needs to be just waiting to come alive. I’m haunted by our collision much the same as I am by the rest of the memories of my life that just won’t rest. For others, they appear to come and go, but for me, it’s all on the same page, dancing like a junky in need of a fix. Nature is queen and whore, kinda like the same as you. Maybe you’re mirrored, or maybe you’re peas in a pod. Maybe this is just how it is for everyone, and there’s no magic just the same shit that repeats like a sex disease over and over again. There must be something a little more classy than that, right? Gotta be, or else Darwin was right, and we really are just animals on a rock doomed to be forgotten like it meant fuck all. Earlier today, I remembered a night out with a friend back in my late teens. After we had finished our drinking, we found ourselves walking atop a hill overlooking our hometown. The lights that shone were so pretty, and in that moment which is now so close to oblivion, time didn’t matter and neither did our lives, because to drink and dance to The Smiths while eyeing up pretty girls and then to look up at the stars was all there was. Nothing else came remotely close.