crying to upbeat music
"Is there anything I can do to make you happy?"
***
I imagine a picture of us that doesn't exist, taken by a friend, at a moment when both of us are too engrossed in each other to be as hyperaware as we usually are. A perfectly candid picture. We're sitting down, facing each other, nothing touching except maybe the caps of our knees, one of my legs tucked under the other, our postures as horrible as when we were teens. We're looking at each other, our eyes somehow brighter than the sunlight's glare on our glasses. We are as silent in that moment as we will be in the picture preserving it, my mouth only slightly upturned in an unconscious grin, but our eyes speak their own shared language.
Anyone looking wouldn't mistake our relationahip for anything platonic. Those stares, it could only be love.
***
I imagine a picture of us that doesn't exist, taken by a friend, at a moment when both of us are too engrossed in each other to be as hyperaware as we usually are. A perfectly candid picture. We're sitting down, facing each other, nothing touching except maybe the caps of our knees, one of my legs tucked under the other, our postures as horrible as when we were teens. We're looking at each other, our eyes somehow brighter than the sunlight's glare on our glasses. We are as silent in that moment as we will be in the picture preserving it, my mouth only slightly upturned in an unconscious grin, but our eyes speak their own shared language.
Anyone looking wouldn't mistake our relationahip for anything platonic. Those stares, it could only be love.