Fitzsimmons

Almost Poetry

Quick Note: I wrote this late at night and just let things flow. I'm calling it poetry because it isn't a story, but it is beautiful writing/prose. Sorry for the rambling and the confusion because I know this will be confusing to people who aren't me.

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He looks at her like she's his entire world, and maybe that's because she was. Between stolen, too-long glances and not-so-perfect, stuttering conversation, he'd fallen for her. He'd drowned within the curl of her hair and the squint in her eye when she smiled, and all of these small, minuscule things were like bricks tied to his back as he sunk deeper and deeper. He never struggled against the pressure of the depth, and he never wished for air, lest the air be from her lips, fanning across his cheekbone and warming his neck, and he's blinded by her light. Because not only is she Earth, she is the Sun, and the Moon, and all of the stars in the galaxy, and every spec of dust in the rings of Saturn, and life itself. She is energy from the beginning of time, given newer and newer life until it was gleaming proudly within the cloudy brown of her irises as they stare nervously through shuttering eyelashes, across the space between them until he can feel her hands skimming across his scalp, her mouth shut on his right temple at midnight when she thought he was asleep. She is life and death and love and loss and anger and bitterness and whispering his fragile name when he forgets she's a celestial body stuck in a human one, and she can only handle about as much hostility as his tongue could ever give out. She is everything, but sometimes she acts like she's nothing, and he can't help but correct her on that when he feels her getting low.

He is oh so low. His feet dig into the dark, coarse sand at the bottom of his ocean of hopeless devotion to her, and he smiles as his body crumples to the floor. He still can't breathe. But he's okay with that, because if he's drowning, it's all for her, and his energy will be absorbed into the grains below him and recycled into her because she is the Earth and the Sun and the Moon and the gentle curl of her hair and the lips on his right temple at midnight whispering "I love you."

And he knows she will give her energy right back to him. Because he is her everything, too.