I Don't Know You

(Orphan Image for Adaptation, 2009)

I don't want to know you. I don't want to learn of your childhood, and your "firsts". I don't want this feeling of loving a stranger for being exactly that to fade away. And let's keep it like that. I won't tell you my name and I won't ask for yours. We'll promise each other to spit words of now, looking into each other's eyes, holding the flesh of the other, and pulsate at the beat of our souls. We won't have friends. Fooling around, drunk and stupid. Running down the street, screaming. I curse this, you curse that, we'll curse each other, create a moment, destroy a moment, cry and laugh, drink some more, watch the black-black turn blue before pink, and we'll spend the morning with each other. It will feel like love for a moment. Shut up mind. I'm not the past.

She.

No.

And I'll ask for silence, as I grab your hand tighter and scream this moment.

Now.

Now.

Again.

And we'll see each other soon. I haven't met you yet. But I have already fallen for you.