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my baby's voice is sweet. she speaks with such thoughtful generosity that it leaves me collecting her smiles as if i'm spellbound and in haste. her expressive face and moonlit lips that remind me of mid 50's bollywood trend, her protruding eyes and their honey-glazed gaze, you don't see the halo but she's strengthed my faith.
it's like her hair are tangled with my lungs cause it gets hard to breathe when she leaves them undone, you've never seen her long nervous fingers running through those curly locks of nightfall that frames the face of my sun.
yes, she has mastered the art of stealing people's hearts, but long ago i think she stole some fairy's pixie dust too, it rests on her apple cheeks every time she adorns that grin and showcases those ivory hooks that has my heart hanging like a leaf under an autumnal hue.
she's my first secure relationship. and so i let her chew my heart. i don't mind a bit. you can't blame me. had you met her, i'm sure you'd be too willing and desperate to offer yours as well.
and it's so pretty; the way she calls my name. she grins so wide every time i dramatize about getting into a cardiac arrest. i'm familiar with artistry in all its forms and shapes but she's got that smile that is enough to puttheMona Lisa's to shame.
΅ ❧ ΅
a/n: well, maybe this was high-key cliché but excuse me, i don't care. i am in love.
TW: this next chapter will have some vivid descriptions of war crimes committed against women. and mention of female infanticide.
