You were afraid of talking to her and you feel silly for liking her for so long without saying something. Its far better, you think, to be spontaneous and just trust your instincts. I should have spoken to her the first time I laid eyes on her, you think. So do it now.
Into Her eyes, into her soul. Strong enough to love for a moment or an eternity.
She said no.
My girl before loved to kiss on me and make me feel a king. It was my fault for not taking each and every one seriously. So she left. I hate her for leaving but I understand her.
It don’t make a fuck whether her eyes are the darkest obsidian or the palest green. I don’t prefer a color.
She’d lay those legs over me. All that love spread over me.
There she stood in a wedding gown, her hair in a messy bun, with a bun in the oven.
Please girl, beg my question.
This one always looks with endless eyes, like a predatory bird.
And so the Sun drops down and the shade of those eyes fade from brightest to blue, like the ocean so endlessly you.
Waves of death flow through us all. We die at different speeds. The moment when it all ends is unknown so we run as fast and as hard as we can, for as long as we can care. It goes in waves.
Kissing, Loving, Fucking, Dying.
It goes in waves.