The voices go quiet. Their 408 km/h force reduced to a collected exhalation. If words were swords, our silent moments slay dragons. I want to write your name in permanent marker. Carve initials on Cerberus’ bark. Scientists state that the pupils become dilated when seeing someone you’re attracted to; mine must have their own event horizons, their own gravitational pull somehow connected to yours.
“3 Words, 2 Hearts, 1 Maybe”
Chapin City Blues 