our bodies make
a straight line
between heaven and hell
parallel to that of which we encircle
and round our numbers
to the nearest possible decimal
inside one another
this symphony is pathetic
like teenagers drooling over text books
passing notes
and kissing hard
hands pressed firmly
to our jeans
I only need this tonight
as we kiss our lips melt
much like wax
dripping off a candle
and there is a rainforest
inside you
just all the trees
have been murdered
our ribs make a mirror image
only slightly changed
like living one day
after another
in your shadow
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