The Night I Fell All Over Again

You're just lethal to me, don't you know that?

You didn't have to wear that smile.
You didn't have to look that gorgeous.
You didn't have to dine and wine me at the place where your parents used to go on a date.
You didn't have to tell me those jokes.
You didn't have to offer me to exorcist my own demons.
You didn't have to look at me in the eye under that dim candle light.
You didn't have to sing "No more I love you's, the language is leaving me in silence..." along with me.
You didn't have to leave a kiss on the text you sent after that eating-my-heart-out dinner.
You didn't have to send a text in the middle of the night 2 days after containing only my name spelled backward.

You didn't have to do anything.
At all.
And I still could easily fall for you.

Don't you know that everything Cole Porter wrote in Everytime We Say Goodbye turned so blutantly true that night when you dropped me back to my hotel? I went to sleep realizing how strange the change from major to minor without having you around.

I was relieved, though, you didn't touch me that night. Supposed you did, my skin would instantly remember your touch that it would ache for you so much every second of every waking hour.