Lightning Struck
We start off small,
as if no where on the earth is lightning striking.
Closed lipped and petrified,
we pick up speed,
falling into the rhythm of the familiar
inevitable.
All of the days between
the last time and now
catch up to me and I have no choice
but to kiss you again.
And we are still gathering strength.
We go on, creating lightning
where there was none.
There is nothing to do
but gain momentum.
I have been hurled like a rocket
into outer space,
my outer space enveloped by yours -
sealed by your tongue,
tongue-tied and tangled
in your hands.
And still we kiss -
open mouthed
and petrified -
finding that we are the only ones
the lightning has struck.
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