it’s gotten to the point where love songs make me feel like i’ve swallowed our warm afternoon in the butterfly exhibit

to the point where i know what colour your eyes are, and more importantly, what similes fit them

to the point where i can feel my mind grip my heart and say “no, no, you’re not going anywhere” as it tries to jump when i think about seeing you again

i feel like i’m at the top of a hill, like the moment where

have you ever gone snow tubing before? you wait forever in line to go up the climb to the hill and then wait again forever to go back down

it’s the moment where you’ve finally climbed up, finally come to your turn in line to go down, finally sit in your tube after a full half hour in the cold, and wait for the moment to be pushed

or...to turn back.

you’re scared and excited all at once

it’s gotten to that point.

Blue.