I want you to bite my lip until I can no longer speak,
and then
suck other genres from my mouth so they never come up in conversation.
Honestly, I’ve never known love;
in fact every time I think
about other sounds,
my brain cramps just to show me how painful life can be
without you.
I’ve heard that true love is blind, so I read all your lyrics in
braille.
I never finish reading, because real love is endless.
I’m stunned at how you
have the audacity to be beautiful,
even on days when everything around you is
ugly.
Your eyelashes are violin strings that play symphonies every time you
blink.
I see your face in every treble and bass cleft,
hoping that you
would jump out and be closer to me.
You massage my skin until my mouth sings songs my brain doesn’t know
the words to,
I want to drink the bass line of your chorus.
The vibration of your voice climbs into my ribcage like monkey
bars,
I want to sample your smile and let my heartbeat do the bass line.
We
could create the greatest love song of all time;
and when they ask what
Kwaicore really is,
I’ll say: “She is my musician and me… I’m her favourite
song.”