He kissed me. But it felt like so much more. It wasn't a kiss. It felt like kissing lightning. I felt the thunder in my ribcage, Saw the light in my soul. My fingers and toes tingled with aftershock as he pulled away. His eyes were small green rainforests, filled with memory mammals and plants of perfection. He called me his explorer, always finding new things in his rainforest. The rainforests deceived anyone who decided to explore. Within those sacred mangroves were pythons and pit vipers. The Jaguar's jettatura ward off anything vigorous. His goodness had been swallowed by goons and his happiness swallowed by heathens. There were poison apples intertwined in his fairy tales and heartbeats in his short stories, haunting him. He was a broken, jagged skeleton covered in pale leather. A sad example of humanity. He had nowhere, no one to call home. But he was mine. All mine.
