In A Closed Room

I want to burn calories and get all heated up with you in a closed room.

By playing songs on decibels that’ll vibrate window panes.

Dancing and jumping, all over the place, on already messed up beds.

Doing bits of whatever dance form we know,

bumping into each other and bumping each other away to things here & there.

Eating and burping and farting all in an enclosed place.

I want to explore every stain on your bed while listening to stories of how it got there.

I want to savor every bit of word you blurt in a space engulfed by a blanket of silence,

all in a closed room with you.

I want to sing with you at the top of my lungs, in the most absurd voice, never-caring, never-fearing about the landlord or the boy next door.

In a closed room, I want our hearts to be aligned sharing our deepest & most vulnerable thoughts.

I want our bodies to share a bed, a blanket, a beer, without being bare.

I want us to get a taste of each other by unclothing every layer of fear, tear,

all here, in a closed room.

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