(no subject)
Bottle
He was beautiful, in a dark way. With dark hair and black eyes like dark, German chocolate.
I connected him with dark shadows, shimmering with fireflies. Musty closets with jewels hidden in the corners, perfectly red cherries that were too sour to enjoy. And even then I liked him with a ferocity that seemed to burn my very bones. We met innocently enough, through friends and few bottles of beer on a Saturday night in Los Angeles. His name was Jack, and people called me Kate. The first night that we met, we entertained ourselves with stories. He
He was beautiful, in a dark way. With dark hair and black eyes like dark, German chocolate.
I connected him with dark shadows, shimmering with fireflies. Musty closets with jewels hidden in the corners, perfectly red cherries that were too sour to enjoy. And even then I liked him with a ferocity that seemed to burn my very bones. We met innocently enough, through friends and few bottles of beer on a Saturday night in Los Angeles. His name was Jack, and people called me Kate. The first night that we met, we entertained ourselves with stories. He