Her lips are soft, complex, and otherworldly
Her skin is gentle and cool against my own warmth
She has electric charge beneath her fingertips
And her words drip liquid love
The smell of lavender,
the beating of two hearts
A blooming flower and an open book
One found carefully pressed inside the other
Memories would be incomplete without both
She smells of the sweetness of spring
And her warmth radiates the sun
Her tears are bittersweet on my lips
How I wish I tasted them less
Her smile is every happiness I've ever known
Paint and perfume fill the spaces between bodies
Love fills in the rest
Happily ever after may not exist
Regret and pain are sure to emerge unwanted
But if storybook endings are nothing like this,
We don't want them.
YOU ARE READING
A Big, Beautiful, Disaster
General FictionChanging for the better, not for the easier
