Under My Skin
his brown eyes were full and heavy, loaded with all the emotion he has ever felt. they held all the sadness and lightness of being. It was as if the entire ocean rested behind the splinters of blue and green that fractured the brown of his eyes. the depths of his ocean undiscovered, even by him. she always felt at one with the mercurial waters, for they matched the tendencies of her soul. she felt comfortably warm as she gazed into them, and best of all, understood. innately.
he sat on her bed and played that song she loved so much, as she clutched her pillow like a teenage girl dealing with her first hormonal arousal. his voice trembled with palpable passion when he sang; the palliative treatment for her long-suffered palpitations. during his shows she slipped through the thick of the crowd, falling further into his sound waves. and danced until her skin glistened with sweat.
he snuck the tip of his finger to the back of her neck, touching only the hairs. her eyes closed in complete bliss as she shuddered in his hands. he played her until she screamed out the dissonance of his song. And now all that's left of him is a crumpled note stuck to the lint of her pocket she wrote for him, but never actually gave him that reads, "I'm sorry..." It was a hot flash of passion that needed to be stomped out as quickly as possible.
he sat on her bed and played that song she loved so much, as she clutched her pillow like a teenage girl dealing with her first hormonal arousal. his voice trembled with palpable passion when he sang; the palliative treatment for her long-suffered palpitations. during his shows she slipped through the thick of the crowd, falling further into his sound waves. and danced until her skin glistened with sweat.
he snuck the tip of his finger to the back of her neck, touching only the hairs. her eyes closed in complete bliss as she shuddered in his hands. he played her until she screamed out the dissonance of his song. And now all that's left of him is a crumpled note stuck to the lint of her pocket she wrote for him, but never actually gave him that reads, "I'm sorry..." It was a hot flash of passion that needed to be stomped out as quickly as possible.