Your hand is a land mine,
resting with reluctance by my side on a Sunday morning,
fingers twitching,
mirroring my own,
my lonely atom bomb,
burning to crash and create chaos,
but resisting as we, two room mates,
two best friends,
two soul sisters sit in silence.

Inseparable,
innocent and inwards with our emotions.
I never think it out loud,
or even too loudly in my head,
but you are the love of my life,
and one day,
we’ll explode these benches,
our hearts soaring through searing skies,
unconfined,
undeterred,
immaculate.