Flawless
and we will be, once i leave some parts out
he is perfect.
his mouth is soft, like his everything else. i drown in its leniency, more than i should, and sometimes words ooze out of it--in his brilliant, glittering voice, silver as the halo of his hair. but silver applies to his everything else, too. not that i'm complaining.
so perfect.
i do not believe he thinks of me that way, if he ever thinks of me at all, but whenever i clasp his hand to mine i cannot help but fool myself. i simply want him, but of course that means i want him to want me, too. we do not speak of it--our actions speak loud enough for themselves. lips like lockets, chests pressed against each other, sharing wonder and frailty. sometimes he goes as far as letting me take himself in me. it feels like the most beautiful thing in the world, and we still don't speak of it. he does not seem to need to, anyway.
perfect, he has to be.
the only thing that perplex me about him is how all the time, he cries. a simple smudge in the face of flawlessness will not let it live, and so i need to stop him. beauty must never slip past that soft mouth, and those soft eyes. he must have me into him, to keep that peace in place. i am doing the right thing. i think of him, while it's happening, thinking oh, it's for the best. i'm all he needs. and did i forget to say it? sometimes he bleeds.
his mouth is soft, like his everything else. i drown in its leniency, more than i should, and sometimes words ooze out of it--in his brilliant, glittering voice, silver as the halo of his hair. but silver applies to his everything else, too. not that i'm complaining.
so perfect.
i do not believe he thinks of me that way, if he ever thinks of me at all, but whenever i clasp his hand to mine i cannot help but fool myself. i simply want him, but of course that means i want him to want me, too. we do not speak of it--our actions speak loud enough for themselves. lips like lockets, chests pressed against each other, sharing wonder and frailty. sometimes he goes as far as letting me take himself in me. it feels like the most beautiful thing in the world, and we still don't speak of it. he does not seem to need to, anyway.
perfect, he has to be.
the only thing that perplex me about him is how all the time, he cries. a simple smudge in the face of flawlessness will not let it live, and so i need to stop him. beauty must never slip past that soft mouth, and those soft eyes. he must have me into him, to keep that peace in place. i am doing the right thing. i think of him, while it's happening, thinking oh, it's for the best. i'm all he needs. and did i forget to say it? sometimes he bleeds.
♠ ♠ ♠
Re-post. I accidentally lost my copy right after I deleted it, and so I had to rewrite it, which, you know, sucks. Anyway, it means whatever it means. Reviews are very, very much appreciated.