the curves in the road seem to disappear into the darkness when they laugh
swelling with ease and joy, unremarkable simplicity
different from that sick numbness you feel when something is so funny and wonderful you can't breathe
it passes, and then there's a moment pregnant with silence
not an empty silence that requires filling up
no extraneous icing or layers that feel artificial and taste like plastic
just one that ebbs and flows in an easy, tidal rhythm
fluid transitions into vulgar descriptions of eccentric classmates
or existentialism
he's crude, and she recoils
at his blunt disregard for the boundaries between male and female
but her dizzy smile unveils the capricious sickness in her stomach
they suck in toxic vegetables that make the world warm
and pretend like when they touch the world doesn't completely melt
her eyelids droop and she inhales, sinking deep into his shoulder
his hands impulsively snake around her waist
reality spins dangerously and she waits for it to steady
finally gravity forces them onto solid ground
and thick, gooey tension permeates the static air
private longing
they never talk about it
nothing has changed
it's been two years