We all wanted a love like in the movies—
pouring, fateful rain,
a drenched dress,
a hungry and sloppy
long awaited kiss,
a passionately late love confession,
desperate hands grasping
at each others faces.

The slow burning flame
that is called limerence—
a spring fling,
a "puppy love",
fleeting emotions—
heaven-struck in lust.

Borrowed time
and stolen dances,
whispered promises in
entrancing glances—
we called it forever,
only to call it in ignorance,
what once felt infinite
was smothered in an instance.