By: Jolie V. Gutierrez

I can’t help it.

I can’t control it, even if

I try.

Everything moves 

in slow motion.

Everything behind you is a blur.

It’s you, me,

a bench and a smile. 

I run my finger on your souls’ silhouette 

while you undress my layers. 

I am soft and big eyed.

You close your eyes, and I adjust,

while you take your time to let me in. 

You open them again and I am slightly different.

I am a little more. 

And you are everything.

Catastrophic like everything else. The middle

of a tornado.

Let us go, leave Kansas.