When we lay close, touching.
Chest to Chest
Our hearts thumping and thrashing about inside
Out of sync
They sway back and forth
And it's not clear which gives in first
But soon,
they beats become methodical and uniform
Pounding at each other in a quietened drum
Until the beat becomes a deafening silence
Our chests sore
Euphoria overwhelms as it should
And our beating will never stop or slow
No matter how sore.