Yesterday everything felt right,
No tension or awkwardness,
just you, me, and a stream of words feeding each other,
as if we were dying of hunger.

The words flew out your mouth,
barely reaching the tip of your tongue,
anxious to escape your lips,
to bet set free.

Your deep brown eyes held wonder,
as you questioned everything, questioned yourself.

I swam into the pools of your pupils,
as they ignited inside me a sense of awe.

How?
How can everything feel so right after being so wrong?
How can you spark the fire that just burned down?
How.