The words rang like blasphemy
through the air,
in an instant sprang back
with garish giddiness.
‘It’s fine!’
‘It’s fine!’
Smiles laced with ***** downed with a spurious solid sobriety.
‘It’s fine!’

It isn’t though,
Is it?
The ***** will tell you that. Nagging like it’s filling a newly burned bruise.
And it’ll be ‘not fine’ when you feel
more love in stagnant conversations
than you did in impetuous kisses.
I’m sure they felt like lightning
during those hours