Stuck On The Puzzle

I tried to swim to the side
But my feet got caught in the middle
And I thought I'd seen the light..

But I was just stuck on the puzzle.

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My mouth hasn’t shut up about you since you kissed it. 

The idea that you may kiss it again stuck in my brain, which hasn’t stopped thinking about you since well before any kiss. 

And now the prospect of those kisses seems to wind me like when you slip on the stairs and one of the steps hits you in the middle of the back. 

The notion of them continuing for what is traditionally terrifying forever excites me to an unfamiliar degree.