there is a secret about the way you use words.
you looked me in the eyes. you said "passion fruit".
like it was something you felt during a session of
shared sweat that pours out you from the humidity brought by the rain,
in the dead of night, in the middle of fall.
It's the way the words rolled off of your tongue,
sounded to me like a moan.
A reminder and reason to remember your name.
It made my lips moist when I heard you say this...
I could have swore you painted me a picture of your lips on mine when you spoke these words.
Tell me, is there something secret in the way you looked me in the eyes and proclaimed "passion fruit".