It’s You.

It’s the taste of whiskey and coke, the trail of smoke upon your breath.
It’s the reckless abandon, the fleeting moment, the plunge of thought into sweet death.

It’s the exhilarating pain, the intoxicating pleasure, the bitter refusal of defeat.
It’s the heavy breaths, the spreading warmth, the rise and fall beneath the sheets.

It’s the lingering sidelong glance, the shivers up my spine.
It’s the willowy touch of wisp and smoke, the way we intertwined.

It’s a kiss, long and lingering, the breaking point, the edge of desire.
It’s you.
The way you make me feel, the way you make me remember.

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