He came back and brought her flowers.
She carried them with a smile on her bright face. They were almost as beautiful as her. They reeked money. She carried a little pink cut out heart with decorative letters sticking onto it reading "kisses 4 u".
She didn't notice me when I passed her. When I realized, I didn't want her notice me anymore. She was glowing, smiling, distracted. My heart was frozen and my skin itched.
I could see them kissing, an arranged bouquet in his strong hand, the tanami desert in his hair, night eyes, smooth tongue, and coffee voice. She was on her tip toes, a hand on his cheek. She was happy to see her soursop man.
She'd hop into his Ford and rest the flowers on her lap and the heart in her hand. She'd kiss him and thank him and tell him she missed him. Her heart would beat a little faster when he would kiss her and nod, not speaking. He was tranquil and pacific. He'd start the car and drive with a full tank and a sparkly girl in the passenger seat, admiring the starry boy and fragrant flowers.
Life slowed down when night poured into day they are parked alone, safe and kissing in the back seat. It was dark and dusty and purple. She was melted and metallic with the luster of his touch on her skin. Her skirt crawled up around her hips as he slid himself in between her caramel legs. She wraped her arms around his muscular frame and his name would puff from her pink lips like a plea.
She'd lift his shirt from his body as he would grip her waist and lean in for a kiss on her lips. They'd kiss for an eternity in the backseat of his broken down car. And their bodies would flicker and shine beneath the twinkling stars. She'd reflect the moon onto him and he'd unbutton his jeans telling her how much he missed her. She'd laugh and help him pull off his pants. They craved each other, they dwelled in each others sweaty touch.
And swirling in her mind she thought "this is love," as she felt him slide her knickers off her legs.
They crinkled into each other until they were flushed and burning in the deep of the night.
YOU ARE READING
AM I IN LOVE WITH YOU OR AM I JUST LONELY?
Short Storythe saddest love, untrue, half, lonely. is it strange that i feel this way? that i'm skipping on stars in the sun sprayed sky. that i can feel his kiss like traffic, slow and hot and bitter. all i can think about is you when he holds me. * AM I IN L...
