These Are The Nights

The brush of his lips across her cheek captures her inhale
trembling fingers ache to touch a love like every told fairytale
she pulls up her hair, letting her ears stick out so small
she just met him but already the emotion is there, and already
the walls are crumbling to ash, already she is slipping away
---
Wasted nights and careless phone calls, voices create a symphony
this might be the worst mistake of our lives, she whispers fearfully
and yet, clenched hands fight the cold, hard evidence of the situation
don't worry I promise to catch you, he whispers urgently
and as the story unfolds neither can deny it, already they are
slipping, already the walls are crumbling into soft ash
---
These are the nights, the nights where there bodies entwine pulsing
without thought, without hesitation, her eyes begin to glow as she
begins to realize, and his smile fails to hide the emotion that is there
neither fear, as they inwardly fight to push against the grain
captured, her eyes speak only of crumbling ash and whispered lips
as his shaking finger tips pulse a current that is slowly but surely,
tugging at young hearts, and they're slipping, slipping away tonight