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14 /NEVER TEAR US APART
INXS
One hand’s reaching for my waist,
the other my face,
both grabbing,
pulling me into him fast.
His mouth collides with mine,
cold lips first,
then heat?—
a match striking winter.
The second we crash,
the ground’s gone.
My fingers are under his shirt,
seeking his warm skin.
His hands are everywhere?—
waist,
spine,
jaw—
needing all of me touching all of him.
November winds claw at our hair and clothes,
trying to rip us apart.
He takes me away as a song circles.
One step.
Another.
Until my spine scrapes a pole.
And he’s on me,
grip hooking under my thighs,
lifting me,
my legs wrapping around his hips.
Cello strings turn the moment into montage,
