thirty second lover.

and since they're playing a song called "louisiana" along with heavy air thick with noticed pretensions and overcompensating conversations, it goes to show that you passing, me smiling, and both of us slowly looking away was the introduction, chewy center, and sweet aftertaste of our relationship.

brief spilling of breath over my lip as my lungs jumped and your small pause over whether or not to talk to me over my headphones.

small flashes over our eyes and faces, and everything progresses as we blink, turn our heads ... we both realized that we probably know the same people, will become captured in each other for a few months, remain polite and overtly civil as the time we spend together dwindles, will eventually grow cold to one another, and end up sacrificing this shot at perfection.

you haven't fucked up, and i haven't gotten a bit moody. i don't know your rituals, and you can't name my brothers.

we're perfect right now, as you keep walking, and i'll skip this track. you're better off possible.