Addicted To Infatuation

We analyze each other’s engaging gaze
as our lips twitch, tossing around musings
over words to convey the passion
residing on the tip of our tongues.
I can’t fathom breaking Ana as a bad habit.
Life is useless unless she rests in my arms
as we chill in the backseat of a stolen car.
I tie my vulnerabilities into knots,
doubting myself into cheap shots.
We laugh loud enough to startle
the clouds to the next town.
As we make love, the clock sets aside
its place in the rotation,
stopping the earth cold at dawn.
With the stars above us,
nothing can stop us.

Twitter – @AC0040

(© 2023 AC)

(My new poetry collection: Screaming At Anxiety)

(WattpadAmazon KindleSpillwordsThe Writers ClubThe Indie Book Store)

4 thoughts on “Addicted To Infatuation

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