there were hearts torn apart between grey cement walls
long before our ****** eyes had ever skimmed the top stair
and realized that there was more to what we knew than four floors.

there were kisses shared atop cold concrete landings
long before our ****** lips had ever grazed one another
and realized that there was more to what we were than 'just friends'.

i used to get lost near hand rails scarred in blues and blacks,
pencils and pens, leftover acrylics and newly purchased sharpie ink;
searching endlessly for your next message,
cleverly hidden among senseless graffiti and professions of love.

every day, a new confession. every day, a new truth. every day, a new letter -
hoping desperately that one day, you would spell out 'love'.

and there you were - as still and as perfect as a statue against the wall;
your arms outstretched to pull me close and your body soaking up the sound
so that echoes in the stairwell were less like gunshots and more like whispers.