We met in a way
I am compelled to lie about,
simply for its lack of romance
but when I told you this,
you refused to recant
our original story.

I met you, unbridled, unassuming,
heart brimming with fear and eyes wide.
My hands shook as I offered you a drink.

Something in the room’s energy shifted when you entered,
a cosmic thing, I guess-
for a moment everything seemed to be meandering
instead of racing.

But now, all my body does is speed,
yearn to stretch itself beyond its bounds

Every now and again I feel compelled to take my pulse
out of fear of my heart’s reaction
to seeing you.

I don’t regret the frantic gasps
that lept from my chest as you touched me,
pulled me into your vortex,
no-

I won’t recant the breathlessness of my sudden, intimate confession
in the midst of our friend’s birthday-party

Sure, I was emboldened by the liquor,
but my decision was motivated
by far more than the headiness of wine-

Your eyes were the catalyst.
The way they peered at me with longing,
yet somehow expecting nothing,
just interested in what lay before them

And I remember
your sudden shift,
you propped yourself up on my chest and said it,
a declaration that stopped time once more -
or, at least, for me

So much blood rushed to my head that I feared you’d killed me
for a moment

I remember too, the brief seconds I spent
floundering in terror
before I made a statement of my own,
and tossed myself willingly into the potential killing-fields,
a sacrifice of sorts,
marred by recent pain, but still ascending.