Do you not know the joy of cold percale?
Of catching an eye from across the room?

No, I live in a neutered age
filled with overwhelming rage.

Because I have had butterflies
since you responded to my text.

Because that is how I feel
when lightning strikes, because
love feels like a death fall.

Because I am pulled over at the CVS
on my way home and telling you this.

Because you might wrap your fingers
into my hair, pull me in, kiss me,
scam the strength and silk that is left.

Because I don’t even know who is
the kindest person in your office,
or if the people who raised you
are still alive, or if you feel the same.

Because, love can be imitated.

Because love hunts me like a panther,
it drops from night trees,
love screams for me and looks to kill,
love is perfect, calm, serene.

Because 80% of all communication is non verbal
and you are still wiping the blood from your lip. 

Words are the smooth swimmer in that opening scene.