(no subject)
The voice on these speakers is clear normally- why is it so muddled today? Drums snap like crisp twigs. Walking through trees that looked like they were on fire, autumn leaves lit up by a six-fifty p.m. sunset. "This time of year," he says, "the sunset isn't worth looking for in the sky. It will always be in these trees, flaming reds and oranges." Her eyes are larger than normal, looking around, frantically photographing everything around her so as not to forget the most miniscule detail.
Guitar moves along like swift water, weaving so easily through crescendos. Laughter fills the air, turquoise water rushing between her legs, a sandal that came off with the current- why did she bother to leave it on anyway? She can't move in this stupid rubber tube, and feels clumsy with these new long arms in front of that boy. That boy with the dark hair, it matches his rich laughter. Already he has crinkles around his eyes; she thought that only happened to her mother and father. His mouth is a perfect heart shape when he bends down to get the sandal as they float along. Those crinkles point in her direction for the first time. Eyelashes bleached with sun and spotted with water look down upon red, freckled cheeks.
That thumping of the bass. The same bass that can be heard in the next room, through thick walls of a new house. Rough tufts of carpet under bare feet, vinyl records and glasses of brandy strewn across a mid sized bedroom. She looks over at him and knows there isn't any love. He kisses her hard on the mouth, pressing her lips hard onto teeth. His kisses ask, "Why won't you love me?" and he mistakes her cowering for fear to open up to him. The lines that make his face in a dim light, coming from that still corner over there, they aren't of the man she can love. The lines are soft and harsh, dark hair against a light face, strong chin against a timid flash of a mouth. She feels dizzy and too hot and leaves the room, and he at once feels disgust, but only for himself. He could never hate her.
This muddled voice, it still isn't clear. They watched that muddled voice together, he looked so small on that wide stage. Rain was lashing the crowd, but instead of driving everyone apart, everyone huddled closer. He kissed her hair for no reason, damp and turning curly at the ends now, from the moisture. The small of her back never felt so important, his hand being there was never so important. Boundaries were broken, but she understands. She smiles a smile he can't see, the acceptance of such a timid kiss, a question of sorts. Lights and rain, grass blades broke in half somewhere along the way and cling to her shoes. Everyone feels so good that they are here, its such an important day.
The song is over but nobody yet leaves.
Guitar moves along like swift water, weaving so easily through crescendos. Laughter fills the air, turquoise water rushing between her legs, a sandal that came off with the current- why did she bother to leave it on anyway? She can't move in this stupid rubber tube, and feels clumsy with these new long arms in front of that boy. That boy with the dark hair, it matches his rich laughter. Already he has crinkles around his eyes; she thought that only happened to her mother and father. His mouth is a perfect heart shape when he bends down to get the sandal as they float along. Those crinkles point in her direction for the first time. Eyelashes bleached with sun and spotted with water look down upon red, freckled cheeks.
That thumping of the bass. The same bass that can be heard in the next room, through thick walls of a new house. Rough tufts of carpet under bare feet, vinyl records and glasses of brandy strewn across a mid sized bedroom. She looks over at him and knows there isn't any love. He kisses her hard on the mouth, pressing her lips hard onto teeth. His kisses ask, "Why won't you love me?" and he mistakes her cowering for fear to open up to him. The lines that make his face in a dim light, coming from that still corner over there, they aren't of the man she can love. The lines are soft and harsh, dark hair against a light face, strong chin against a timid flash of a mouth. She feels dizzy and too hot and leaves the room, and he at once feels disgust, but only for himself. He could never hate her.
This muddled voice, it still isn't clear. They watched that muddled voice together, he looked so small on that wide stage. Rain was lashing the crowd, but instead of driving everyone apart, everyone huddled closer. He kissed her hair for no reason, damp and turning curly at the ends now, from the moisture. The small of her back never felt so important, his hand being there was never so important. Boundaries were broken, but she understands. She smiles a smile he can't see, the acceptance of such a timid kiss, a question of sorts. Lights and rain, grass blades broke in half somewhere along the way and cling to her shoes. Everyone feels so good that they are here, its such an important day.
The song is over but nobody yet leaves.