When we fight words crawl in the air, they stagger around our bodies glasses of wine that fuel a heated conversation; they once heightened the heat of jokes that pinch the air- but, once they are ignited with real fire, they let go of connotations becoming their purest, most aggressive denotative form.
Nonetheless, designating flames are the ones that scare us all and, consequently, make the insignificant heat of our words turn to water: so we can put the fire down. These are the infernos that create an unforgivable chain of heat, one which is so hot that the fires that make our egos light up melts in togetherness to try to put it down.
So when we fight, let go of connotations, solidify them: when pain is shown, we are made aware of its ever-present latency and; therefore, we can let go of it. When we fight, slap me in the face, with all the strength your hands can feel at the moment.
Afterward, we might kiss.