The Last Time
fin
Her heart swells with a buildup of melancholia concentrated over the last three months of whatever they were.
His hand shakes all while his fingers find their place along her side, one by one as if he was playing a C minor scale on an old piano, and the disparity between his cold fingertips and warm palms comforts her as she tries to quell quiet pleas of desperation only her head and her heart know of.
The near lack of light makes his lips look blue as they brush over her forehead, her eyebrow, her temple, her cheek, her nose, her jaw, her chin, her lips.
It's hard not to cry when he's kissing her the way he always does–as if there's nothing different about them, as if nothing's changed.
He's lost in thought as his fingers subconsciously find their way to her back, grazing her spine before unclasping her bra. He kisses her neck, shoulder, chest, breast, stomach before she pushes him away and tinkers with the bottom of his shirt before slowly peeling it off him. She cries as she kisses his eyebrow, his freckled cheeks, the tiny jagged scar on his abdomen.
He kisses her tears before she lies down, and he lets himself be consumed by her. When he gains his sense of rhythm, he can't help the tears that fall from his eyes only to hit her cheeks.
They fall asleep after, too lonely and afraid to talk.
When he's gone in the morning, it still doesn't feel like goodbye.
His hand shakes all while his fingers find their place along her side, one by one as if he was playing a C minor scale on an old piano, and the disparity between his cold fingertips and warm palms comforts her as she tries to quell quiet pleas of desperation only her head and her heart know of.
The near lack of light makes his lips look blue as they brush over her forehead, her eyebrow, her temple, her cheek, her nose, her jaw, her chin, her lips.
It's hard not to cry when he's kissing her the way he always does–as if there's nothing different about them, as if nothing's changed.
He's lost in thought as his fingers subconsciously find their way to her back, grazing her spine before unclasping her bra. He kisses her neck, shoulder, chest, breast, stomach before she pushes him away and tinkers with the bottom of his shirt before slowly peeling it off him. She cries as she kisses his eyebrow, his freckled cheeks, the tiny jagged scar on his abdomen.
He kisses her tears before she lies down, and he lets himself be consumed by her. When he gains his sense of rhythm, he can't help the tears that fall from his eyes only to hit her cheeks.
They fall asleep after, too lonely and afraid to talk.
When he's gone in the morning, it still doesn't feel like goodbye.
♠ ♠ ♠
I'M NOT DEAD!!!!!!!!!