Cancer

That moment. THEN. The moment where its so so so quiet, and all we can hear, even if we try otherwise, is breathing. His breathing, quick and hard, breathy and low, matching my own. When we pressed up against eachother hard. My face buried in his chest, his head smashed onto my neck. You really can't hear anything else, honestly.. and if I had to pick my favorite sound in the world his breathing would be my answer. That pull of air into your broken lungs. I used to think that lungs were big bags just sitting there in our chests that fill up with air and then wooooosh out. Fill, empty. Then I learnt that lungs are all these tubes joined together, like a tapestry? Like tree roots. They still go woosh, but when I think about it, I can almost feel the smoke and tar stuck inside. Then I don't want to breathe. I don't want lungs. I don't want him to have lungs, because when we stand there, not against a wall, but against eachother, I could say maybe thats my favorite feeling as well. I am your wall, you are mine. Two forces. Push and push. If I knew about physics I would have some scientific term for it, but I don't and I don't. There IS probably a term or.. explanation for what happened. Chemicals and primal need I'm sure. What I know though is the need that overcomes you. So raw I can't put it into any other words but need. Need. So intense that what you said before about not needing anyone to be happy and being fine without someone to ravish and have, well you discover that was a lie with a capital L. You need to push and shove your way to happiness. Claw at his hair and shoulders. Cuz when I felt that need all of what I ever said before to anyone was trivial. We need someone to need. Someone to suck your neck and someone you can press desperatly against. I guess we were desperate. Always touching. His arm on my shoulders and my shoulders knocking his arm. Pushing him. Lips like caves, my waves crashing and carving into him. Washing up across his cheek and drowning his eyelids. Inhale, they squint. Exhale, they roll back. I've taken him deep under the warm waves. Before his eyes shut he whispered 'you look like a wolf'.Then, hands together. Grasping onto eachother like scared children because, well, we are scared children. I guess we hide it well. It was hot. Really fucking hot. Shove suck grate grab push and snatch. I'll take what I want and try to make it enough. If I take enough, it will. It WILL be enough. He kissed my cheek and we both paused. Such a light gesture during a not so light act. A butterfly in a war? A baby playing with a wolf? To each his own. We went back to tearing eachothers clothes off.