Passionflower

Sock Trull (Greensboro, NC)

When you kiss me it feels like a word I don’t know

Spiraling spiraling spiraling out of control i don’t know where I end and you begin
All I know is that i end

End in vines with passionflower blooming in waves opening and closing with no real pattern and I’m falling asleep to the sound of space bumblebees drunk on the passionflowers pollen so drunk I can reach out and touch them and they don’t care and neither do i I reach out and touch your hair and breathe in your voice like the leaves spiraling out of control and over me.

I’m over me.

It feels like you’re over me.

I felt like you were over me til I felt your fingers back on my wrists rough but still soft and comforting, draining me of something but i don’t know what,

Maybe draining me of the thought that our love is still frowned upon, frowned upon by societies rules around normalcy, frowned upon even by people in the queer community because it doesn’t follow definitions or patterns deemed acceptable

Me.
A hopeless romantic.
You.
Aromantic.

Yet here we are and you say you love this too.

And i still don’t know what it is you’re draining me of.

Whatever it is I don’t want it you can have it just please don’t take your hands away again I need this to know you still want to love me!

Still love me.

Passionflowers die off one by one but the vines are still there binding me to you.

I forgot what this feels like but i remember
That you can’t remember what you never felt before.
I can’t remember feeling like this before.
I remember you before…
Before what?

Before i forgot every reason I let these vines consume me.