to all of my beloveds

torin

love #4

my sibylline torin,

in bated breath i await your return under velvet sky. the grey of the clouds above, thick with mysterious wonder only work to capture my thoughts and replace them with images of you.

from your marbled black hair to those brilliant greys of yours, i often wonder when i will be reminded of the intensity in your hard gaze. the drop in my stomach at the bare mention of your name sends my senses screaming with the need of you.

those lips of yours always held many secrets, the lesions of your skin many more, yet i found that it never slighted me. on the contrary, i grew hopeful at the proposition to become more knowledgeable about you, where you came from, your favorite scent, your favorite food, your favorite color,

everything there is to know about you, my love.

i spent my days wandering the city, until i'd found you sitting uptop a tiled roof, the pellets of cold rain hitting your skin and running down your jawline. i thought i might've been mad for how beautiful i found you in that moment. those overcast eyes of yours filled with so much depth in which i could drown, i couldn't help but feel myself prized to your every movement.

when you'd thread your fingers through my hair, calloused but soft, and lay your chin a top my head as you embraced me, i often wondered if you could feel the slight shake in my figure. the twitch in my fingers as i clutched onto your shirt. i felt so small next to you, but you never hesitated to brush away my insecurities.

i do wonder how you said that you love someone like me. you'd always said my abnormalities made up the fact that i was perfection, but i think that saying is more accustomed to you than me dear.

i still have the book we'd read together as we laid on the windowed couch. the gentle pattering of the storm outside made for beautiful white noise behind the bass of your voice. wrapped in plain blankets, i can still feel the content that permeated my veins. the pages are still as weathered as they were then, however now when ever i try to revisit the written words i become stuck in wistful daydreams.

the intimacy and peculiar natures of our romance still causes yearning in my soul, i hope you've found everything in your life well, and remember to visit me once in a while.

- Q.