by Kimiko Hirota

I took small breaths at your approach
and one last gulp of air before I thought
I will suffocate from your lips pressed
against mine but I didn’t mind because
dying from a tongue-tied dance is
something I’d be blessed to find.

Destiny plays a role in who makes it out
alive. None of us do. Bizarre as it gets,
we don’t know how to stop loving or
when we have reached the climax of
our lifetime because there are too many
fakeouts instead of knockouts in year-long
waits for something new. Lovers come
and go and our best memories get replaced
by the next hand we hold in the middle of July.

I can’t tell you how afraid I am of your eyes
when they try meeting mine because the truth is,

they scare the living shit out of me. I have gotten
used to boys I can read and boys with motives
written all over their faces but you are like Braille
and I am not blind. I used to pride myself in
breaking hearts – to steal their beanies, but you,
boy, I could name every cliche and feel as if
I wrote it myself. Tell me why. Listen.

We are not stopping ’til it’s done. Cowardly acts
are called suicides but baby would it be courageous
if I asked you to be my death calling? On and on
your heels will drag but I am already running
backwards to the womb. You have to believe me,
my friends they tell me I’m crazy and it makes me
smile because it’s true. Everyday a tongue-tied
dance with you could kill me and I wouldn’t scream.
Magazines sell me anti-aging cream but I am buying
vampy matte lips and sitting out in the sun. I am not
afraid to die. Baby you won’t scream about anything
but baby you have to tell me will you let me die
in your mouth?

Flying sounds fun and when I die I know
it’ll be a coast up to the sun so baby kill me
with your teeth pressed against mine
I wanna feel something that makes the finale
worth the find baby, baby. Take me with you.
Let me die.

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