I don't believe.

“Fuck,” You breathe out curtly. “I really wish I held that toke in longer.” You make an exaggerated frown, and we gggle as you look away suddenly, like you just thought of something dirty.
I won’t ever mind saying, that I love the dirty parts of you.
I love the rituals you have. Like, today is Wednesday, and you like to eat pasta and get high on Wednesday nights. You make me so nervous and bubbly, containing myself while your back arches back to reach for an ashtray - it's nearly impossible. You hand me the joint, and I hold mine in forever, tasting the spice hit my tongue and setting it on fire. When I exhale in front of you, the haze takes over your face, making it oblong and abstractly sexy. This is high is something I don't mind, because you letting me in on your rituals. Welcoming to be a part of your inner cult, your realm that only beauty exists. You reach over past me to turn up the volume on the speaks behind me and I catch a scent of your perfume mixed with the smoke, and my legs go to jelly beneath me. I wonder if your sheets smell the same. If they did, I'd want to die in them, poisoned by your lust and magic. Your hair grazes my own bare shoulder, like ice, it makes me jump.
Somewhere in between who we thought we were and who we want to be - lie moments like this. Invisible crossroads, and large infinite rules that no one knows who made up. We can't move, we are frozen in this time, and my mind races like lightening looking for a target. I want you. I want you to be my target, I repeat in my head. I want to put my hands in places I never thought I'd put them. I look at the silver toe ring on your left foot and it makes my eyes go up your bronzed legs, in the middle of winter, I see summer shimmering on you. I imagine running my hands up them and then grasping your hips, putting you under me and burying my nose in your scent. I feel my eyes glaze over in deep thought, and I hear you laugh, thinking it's the weed doing it to me. I smile, "Yeah," I say, trying to keep our conversation going. I look up at your cobalt eyes and they're dancing slowly, and I offer my eyes eyes up as a dance partner. My heart beats faster with every second they tango, and finally these inches are ridiculous.
I don't care about rules anymore.
I don't believe in anything anymore, just that neck of yours. Just that neck, leading into that ass, then those legs that carry you all over this planet. I don't want sympathy for this love lorn heart, I just want to feel you. Every inch.
I scoot closer on the floor to you and I rise to my knees in front of you. I see confusion break in your pupils, and then I sense you match what I am broadcasting loud and clear.
You think, "I don't care about rules anymore. I just want to feel life break lose from it's cage and ravage me. I want life to eat my alive, slowly." You grab my waist and pull me close and as breamed previously, I finally burying my nose into the side of your neck, and then kiss down to your shoulders as you find your way to the back of me. When our lips finally meet, I imagine a gunshot going off inside of me, scaring away crows that bring doubt. I crave being on top of you, and I pin you beneath you, keeping our kisses deep and full of magic minerals. I love this pressure between us, and I'm being shot with adrenaline with every small squirm we share. I put my hands around your chest, feeling the those mounds of soft flesh, and a small, satisfied moan escapes you. I am lost all over again. I made you moan, so I can die all over again, the sweetest sound ever made. I start praying to you and the walls that this feeling never leaves. You taste like what I imagined was the most amazing taste ever, and watching your fingers outline my shape make me feel like I've been welcomed into some secret world where there is no pain and art makes laws.
I don't believe in rules anymore.
I don't want to feel pinned to a world I don't believe in.
This is what I think over and over as we run miles on each other. The shame comes in small waves, but your spirit pushes them back. Nothing could be as beautiful as your silohuette while you put your hair up in a bun while on top me.
I want life to ravage me slowly.
I just want to put my hands everywhere. I want to feel everything.