Excerpt from a Book I will Never Write

66

It's about the rush. The adrenaline of diving off a cliff into the ocean, unsure about where you're going to land, but taking the risk anyway. It's water crashing against rocks. Like your body crashes into mine. A whirlwind of blue, like the sheets on your bed and the clothes on the floor. It's your hand running through my hair. Calming and soothing, like a steady tide after the raging storm. It's us. Lost in the swirling abyss of emotions. Lost in your green eyes and pale skin reflecting the setting sky.