I was made to touch your lips. Of that I'm sure.

Whatever follows I'm not so sure about.
But I'll enjoy the tumble with you. The reckless abandonment that plays on your lips after the first jump forward is unforgettable.
While it lasts, I'll enjoy the drop down into the rabbit hole, where we watch days and months wrap around us.
I'm sure you'll figure out what's next when we reach the bottom. I'm sure. I'm sure...

But if you must go now and leave me hurdling through the dark, please... Let me trace your lips once more. Twice. Let me remember you well when I reach the bottom. I hope I figure out what to do. Before I meet the ground.