And when you say love,
as if the first chilled sip of champagne slapping your tongue,
I know you know I know. You, thinking of summer walks
in the park with a pet we'll soon own, a whisky sunset
and a John Legend song, strawberries half-licked
in molten chocolate. We'll kiss - fireworks.
*** to make us sweat.

I smile, because what else would I do?
I think of bags for life sleeping beneath the eyes,
black apostrophe hairs on the brink of the sink.
Perhaps splashes of blood on the sheets, scrunched stomach,
arguments that sprint out our mouths,
temporary electrocutions.
We'll kiss - loose knot. *** to make us fret.