Lovers
Uno
His skin on her skin speaks soft verses of poetry. Her lips against his breathe the heat of combusting stars. Two bodies pressed against each other so tightly that they form a light disfigured shadow of only one. They lay entwined in a bed of newly born flowers, so quietly. She can feel his heart thumping softly against her ear.
They are: still, innocent, simple creatures.
His skin on her skin speaks harsh lies. Her lips against his breathe deliberate cold shoulders and dingy taste of secrets. Two souls wandered father from their places with each other and into another's arms so quickly it's heart-wrenching. They lay, two bodies together, in a bed full of withered flowers, never honest. She can barely hear his heart beating against her head, for it's found a new chest to stay inside.
They are: lying, cheating, bitter wild things.
His skin on her skin speaks rough lines of rehearsed arguments. Her lips against his breathe months of anger and truths of infidelity. Two fists hitting against each other so forcefully they leave trails of violent bruises. He and she both stumble and fall. They lay tangled in a bed of rotting flower stems, set on fire. She can’t feel his heart beating; she can’t feel anything.
They are: silent, vicious, dead animals.
They are: still, innocent, simple creatures.
His skin on her skin speaks harsh lies. Her lips against his breathe deliberate cold shoulders and dingy taste of secrets. Two souls wandered father from their places with each other and into another's arms so quickly it's heart-wrenching. They lay, two bodies together, in a bed full of withered flowers, never honest. She can barely hear his heart beating against her head, for it's found a new chest to stay inside.
They are: lying, cheating, bitter wild things.
His skin on her skin speaks rough lines of rehearsed arguments. Her lips against his breathe months of anger and truths of infidelity. Two fists hitting against each other so forcefully they leave trails of violent bruises. He and she both stumble and fall. They lay tangled in a bed of rotting flower stems, set on fire. She can’t feel his heart beating; she can’t feel anything.
They are: silent, vicious, dead animals.
♠ ♠ ♠
So I finally wrote something that I actually almost like.I know it's not very long but your thoughts and comments are absolutely lovely.
- changed it up a bit today which is september tenth.