The cream of our eyes swirled into a sugary glaze as a frosty stare-down brewed.
Hazelnut tipped and silk streamed ombre curls fell playfully from the soft stroke-back of hair. A silver band slivered its gleam in between strands, leaving a lone bang hiding coyly, peeking before a sharp but quiet side glance. My heart slipped from its buttery hotplate as the corner of my lips smirked willingly. There was a feeling of both eternity and uncertainty in that moment, as it inevitably escaped me, like gravity pulling a falling leaf to its feet. (Thud) A sudden jolt struck the sole of my kicks. A loosely worn black Chuck Taylor shoe adorned the adorably small footprint that preciously retreated to its counterpart, as if to hide itself from naughtiness. Every cell in my body reacted, yet every sense of self awareness faded – at that moment I believed that I can be anyone and anything you want me to be, and that I wouldn’t leave you; I couldn’t leave you. Beneath her sharply streamlined feline gaze, an arrangement of small pearly whites teethed her strawberry glossed lip; her quaint pucker seemed to let out a soft purr. Should I put my head in the lion’s mouth, I’d fall prey.. A blue pen appeared and lacerated broken scribbles into a blank region of my notebook.
On a blue afternoon I unveiled the body of work, and gently slipped the note out of its origami lingerie; hearts and kisses enveloped between its folds in verbal foreplay. I clung to every word, basic mentions of her route to work felt meaningful, even the heart laced “goodbye” lay smitten in the lovestruck footnote.
Inside, I was smothered with jagged pistons – the words behind my heart will soon reveal itself from the cut like a brandished dagger, to our dismay; but bleed the hopelessly endearing situation, also to much grief.
I wrote back.
Don’t even care if it’s real.
Solemnly swear, cross our hearts and dot the I’s; X,O’s, per my mind’s carbon copy-blind. I follow your daydreams and cigarette trails. You’re my perfect dark and favorite pill.
I’m leaning against your halls, visiting every flaw, those dimples’ say it all.
We build it up, just to tear it down; work up a sweat, just to dress it down.
Intertwine our vines, drown out our worries, swimming in our deep, wet stressful sounds.
Who knew a frown could contain so much pent up pleasure.
Hot and cold, I’ll tease your barometer measure;
caress and scold,
lock and load,
we clash, heavy at war,
the gleam of your swell’s desire filled core.
True affection is audible, sweet to the touch, night rhythms “hypnotical” – making eyes, like a pendulum swung monocle.
What a dangerous game we play.
Purely anatomical, pleasure was meant to be functional, but emotionally combustible; Which is why we can never get too comfortable.
I expected nothing, but everything.
Just don’t go yet, tell me the lies I’ll believe.
If you want it,