"... he's 22" those words are a beautiful nightmare.
Our story takes place in a run down town, all that's here is Kroger, townies, and him. He is a man of many words, mostly because he's a self proclaimed genius. Everything that comes out of his mouth is intellectually mesmerizing. The way he sees the world makes the people jealous, his playful mind and kind spirit reveals his way of life, if only walking in his shoes was possible. His golden eyes are piercing, they hold so many secrets that are yet to be told, the intensity of his glare is eased by the smile he has, so child like and mature at the same time. He's a miracle.
He's my miracle. Going into this who knew the connection that is sparked could be so intense and careful. Butterflies come and go with time, seems our time will never end. Who knew I would be so interested in knowing more about bananas then I was about anything else. His voice is smooth and direct, feeling calm whenever he speaks is why I care about listening to the difference between a ripe banana and a spoiled one. I know the differences I know which one is which but hearing him tell it makes me want to keep it on repeat, "The green ones are ripe, the brown ones a spoiled." simple and easy but feels like a poem to me.
Apartment 16 is where falling became a priority, his hands glide my back feeling every curve. So gentle and firm, do I let myself go or hold off? The words whispered take me higher the rush of his lips on my chilling skin lets me know the room is getting warmer, with every spark that is being lit I feel myself get weak. His motions take me for a ride in a cloud of wishful thinking, with every moan and breath that's being exchanged I feel safe and at home. The room is dark but the fire between us keeps it visible, but for only us. The body of a youthful lover lays beside me kissing my forehead rubbing my hair, I'm not scared to fall asleep because my dreams are now as good as my reality.
"...he's 22" but he's my 22.
