Was it love?
That shot us into thin air making our insides burn
Like the universe was punishing us
And setting fire to our heart?
Was it lust?
That turned us into the dust that collects on your bedside shelf
That your mother nags you to clean?
Was it love?
That made us break into abandoned buildings at 4 a.m and see flashing lights outside the broken glass windows
Then racing into the trees with racing hearts that could barely breathe?
Was it lust?
That pushed us into this nothingness but disire and we craved every part of one another until there was no space left between us?
Was it love.
Or
Was it lust.