The boy his movements are liquid, something you desired to quench your thirst or someone to drown yourself in

But you know it doesn't work like that, perfection is a myth

& humans aren't built for satisfaction

So you swallow the vowels & words you never told her

And breathe in,


Until you're breathing in alternate realities where he may mean something to you

And with his tongue in your mouth you think of god, salvations & saviours

You think if anything is real or tangible

You reach out for something to hold on to other than the collar of his shirt and the belt loops of his pants

& finally ,

You think

Maybe you can't just save yourself