Notes slipped from between my fingers, lightly swarming in the crisp air of my empty room and suddenly I have no inspiration to write teeny tiny details about how your nose scrunched and cheeks burning bright when I call you beautiful. Remember the first night when I was lonely I breached out from the corner of the lonely club and the music left my ears because it seems like they don't need me anymore. Outside the building your back hitting on the brickwall with cigarette in your fingers and I instantly wanted to be your lighter, it was the first time I met you with your lips silently yelled at me to come closer. You were silence and danger and all kinds of beautiful I cannot yet describe in any syllable. Your eyes were something grey like asphalt fleck or sad sea owning the night sky like an umbrella but I realized they were blue, so I compared you with the afternoon sky, how it was baby blue and innocent yet guiding thunderstorm and rage and grief and rain ready to pour down anytime. Remember the second night when we were dancing together pretending to be a happy couple, my fingers stroking your hair like guitar strings fitting perfectly in my easy fist. I know we were just pretending or maybe I was hallucinating when your eyes softened that time I faked my laugh (it was real) to complete the range of our playful demeanor with the music blaring like the theme song of the lonely night. Remember the third night where your hands fell in love with my skin, but the next day instead of falling in love we fell apart. Let's skip the fourth. On day five at the bridge and the water reminded me of your eyes on the third night when your hands fell in love with my skin where they truly softened that time, not when I doubted it inside a club lost and twirling inside darkness and moving bodies shone by fluorescent glow on the second night (but I guess I could never get lost if my fingers always end up around your neck) - you showed up and your lips were always the same since the day I walked out of the club watching you smoke on a cigarette (I wanted to be the lighter but it felt too late). We continued the roots that we built, and suddenly our lips fell in love and we're higher than the stars in your eyes. And when you traced your lips to my arm I had a glimpse of the first night where your smile cloaked my sight and I thought that maybe I was never too late to be your lighter.
Or maybe I could be the light.
; i'm sorry i edited this too much, i'm just not quite satisfied about how it turns out :) x
