swallow me in blue and I'll take you to places you've never been before
drabble-ish, 381 words, PG/PG-13
angst/romance, myungzy (myungsoo and suzy)
Bubble gum, blue tack stains, satin laced between every indents of the wall. Inebriated blueberry novocaine kiss, velvet lemon dripping across applesauce skin. Her room is nothing but a combustion of chemicals. Ecstasy and coloured smoke bombs manifest. Her lungs cough up blue ash wild flowers and driftwood. She is subtle, dark and ethereal. She paints waves of kohl liner on the rims of her eyes. The taste of crisp winter, tangerines, leave traces of nostalgia on her tongue. She catches her lovers in a lavender beach house, in a glass of Chinese porcelain. Icy, Prussian blue ships drown, swallowed by the Palatinate Sea of her lungs.
She likes swallowing her lovers.
He comes into her life, a crescendo wildfire, kissing the shore that meets her sarcoline toes. He says he saw her once in the Bermuda triangle, wearing Moulin rouge. She laughs all effervescent bubbles. She grabs his hand, leads him to a terra cotta café, where they sit under tiger blossoms, and says it’s her favourite. Her hand lingers on his a millisecond too long and she flushes carnival pink she takes him one day to find calcite pink crystals in morocco before they know it there dancing on a carnival of cardinal carousels
She says she will give him the world in a sparkling glass of champagne.
She was fixated on him, drawn to him like how a moth is drawn to a flame. She drank him in this time, all phthalo blue, green shaded. She didn’t swallow (like she did with her past lovers), just basked, and was addicted. That’s how she saw him the electric blue of her lungs, hypnotizing.
He saw her as sunlight, canary yellow and jacinthe orange, all a shimmering Spanish pink, strawberry coated. He thought he couldn’t live without her, like how a plant needs the sun for oxygen to live. That’s how he saw her, how he always saw her.
They break up one day, one night. She’s all painted Russian violet, the colour isn’t nice, and it’s like the colour of death, like she’s mourning, but knew all the more, all at once. They go their separate ways from then on; they thought they would be sad, dripping Venetian blood. But instead their hearts were left numb and ice cold……..
angst/romance, myungzy (myungsoo and suzy)
Bubble gum, blue tack stains, satin laced between every indents of the wall. Inebriated blueberry novocaine kiss, velvet lemon dripping across applesauce skin. Her room is nothing but a combustion of chemicals. Ecstasy and coloured smoke bombs manifest. Her lungs cough up blue ash wild flowers and driftwood. She is subtle, dark and ethereal. She paints waves of kohl liner on the rims of her eyes. The taste of crisp winter, tangerines, leave traces of nostalgia on her tongue. She catches her lovers in a lavender beach house, in a glass of Chinese porcelain. Icy, Prussian blue ships drown, swallowed by the Palatinate Sea of her lungs.
She likes swallowing her lovers.
He comes into her life, a crescendo wildfire, kissing the shore that meets her sarcoline toes. He says he saw her once in the Bermuda triangle, wearing Moulin rouge. She laughs all effervescent bubbles. She grabs his hand, leads him to a terra cotta café, where they sit under tiger blossoms, and says it’s her favourite. Her hand lingers on his a millisecond too long and she flushes carnival pink she takes him one day to find calcite pink crystals in morocco before they know it there dancing on a carnival of cardinal carousels
She says she will give him the world in a sparkling glass of champagne.
She was fixated on him, drawn to him like how a moth is drawn to a flame. She drank him in this time, all phthalo blue, green shaded. She didn’t swallow (like she did with her past lovers), just basked, and was addicted. That’s how she saw him the electric blue of her lungs, hypnotizing.
He saw her as sunlight, canary yellow and jacinthe orange, all a shimmering Spanish pink, strawberry coated. He thought he couldn’t live without her, like how a plant needs the sun for oxygen to live. That’s how he saw her, how he always saw her.
They break up one day, one night. She’s all painted Russian violet, the colour isn’t nice, and it’s like the colour of death, like she’s mourning, but knew all the more, all at once. They go their separate ways from then on; they thought they would be sad, dripping Venetian blood. But instead their hearts were left numb and ice cold……..