stardust & silk

S E P T E M B E R.

i.

You should know, my dear, my soul is filled with kaleidoscopes of your smile and rivers of your tears and not even the sun could outshine the look in your eyes after the very first time I told you I loved you.

ii.

I've come to find that Fairytales are misleading. Stories of Cupid's Arrow and falling in love are buttered up versions of the truth because what they don't tell you is that: arrows hurt. Especially those made of love, for love, with love.

iii.

It feels like the stars are more attainable than you are these days, the gulf separating us insurmountable, like I'd drown the moment I dipped my toes in. I never learnt to swim when I was younger, maybe I should have. Maybe then we'd have stood a chance and I wouldn't have found myself drowning in all the things we never got to do.

iv.

I met him when it was gloomy, both the weather and my soul, as I waited for the seasons to change and the sun to reach it's peak. He smiled at me once, when I'd run out of change in the coffee shop and my cheeks had tinged an impossible red as I dug through my pockets looking for change. He'd smiled at me as he handed over some coins to the impatient cashier with a stray dimple peeking back at me, a little off centre, on his right cheek.