Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
We ****** like a house fire for three months straight Both of us pretending smoke was atmosphere You called it passion when I bruised your thighs I called it love when you broke my phone We confused intensity for intimacy Until there was nothing left to burn
0
Sep 14, 2025
Sep 14, 2025 at 4:30 PM UTC
untitled 3 (Shorts #2)
We ****** like a house fire for three months straight Both of us pretending smoke was atmosphere You called it passion when I bruised your thighs I called it love when you broke my phone We confused intensity for intimacy Until there was nothing left to burn
iberianpoet
Written by
Sep 14, 2025
Sep 14, 2025 at 4:30 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem