♒ 2oo. ( symbolisms )
Her moon belongs to his sun.
It's days of laughter, days of long walks on the beach that really aren't as cliché as it sounds (she is the ocean, if you look closely enough, and he is her sands). She (really) can't stop wading in the surf. It's as if she has, merely by taking off her shoes, become an extension of the waves.
He doesn't chide her for being 'childish' as she plays, wading and delighting in the crashing of the tiny waves around her ankles. He plays as well, forgetting anything except that they are together, and here is where the beach frees their spirits and shows just how alive they are.
He shines like the sun and she radiates from his rays, glowing with the edge of the moon, and together they beckon the tides. She takes notice of the various shades of blue etched in the distance, of the little fish that nibble on her toes, and he laughs when it tickles her (and it certainly tickles him too!). She adores it when he laughs. She adores everything.
They put their hands together and she counts their fingers. He notices how well they fit together, even when she sticks a seashell she's found between their palms. He remarks on how smooth it feels, she remarks on how it somehow parallels their life.
He shines like the sun, and it melts her heart to watch him move. He is full of energy and full of life, and it coaxes her out of her shell. He is a blessing on her very soul, a sunburst where there had been nothing but an unhealthy hole.
It's nights of conversation, nights of when they settle and listen to the sounds around them and watch the sun ebb and fade. He plays the guitar to the rhythm of the waves, and her voice melds with the chords and his own. They don't really know what song they're singing and they don't care because they're together, and that's all that matters. His sun has willed her moon out to glow, and he notices as the sun sets that she blooms with the night, and he resigns himself to the fact that she's come to bloom. She talks and he listens to what thoughts she weaves out, whether they're from her ridiculous amounts of studies or just random thoughts. They bounce words off each other, challenging without overstepping boundaries, and they just flow into laughter and a profound meaning.
Her moon belongs to his sun, the sun she's never, ever truly found.
She's sure he exists only in her heart.
And that's enough to break it.
It's days of laughter, days of long walks on the beach that really aren't as cliché as it sounds (she is the ocean, if you look closely enough, and he is her sands). She (really) can't stop wading in the surf. It's as if she has, merely by taking off her shoes, become an extension of the waves.
He doesn't chide her for being 'childish' as she plays, wading and delighting in the crashing of the tiny waves around her ankles. He plays as well, forgetting anything except that they are together, and here is where the beach frees their spirits and shows just how alive they are.
He shines like the sun and she radiates from his rays, glowing with the edge of the moon, and together they beckon the tides. She takes notice of the various shades of blue etched in the distance, of the little fish that nibble on her toes, and he laughs when it tickles her (and it certainly tickles him too!). She adores it when he laughs. She adores everything.
They put their hands together and she counts their fingers. He notices how well they fit together, even when she sticks a seashell she's found between their palms. He remarks on how smooth it feels, she remarks on how it somehow parallels their life.
He shines like the sun, and it melts her heart to watch him move. He is full of energy and full of life, and it coaxes her out of her shell. He is a blessing on her very soul, a sunburst where there had been nothing but an unhealthy hole.
It's nights of conversation, nights of when they settle and listen to the sounds around them and watch the sun ebb and fade. He plays the guitar to the rhythm of the waves, and her voice melds with the chords and his own. They don't really know what song they're singing and they don't care because they're together, and that's all that matters. His sun has willed her moon out to glow, and he notices as the sun sets that she blooms with the night, and he resigns himself to the fact that she's come to bloom. She talks and he listens to what thoughts she weaves out, whether they're from her ridiculous amounts of studies or just random thoughts. They bounce words off each other, challenging without overstepping boundaries, and they just flow into laughter and a profound meaning.
Her moon belongs to his sun, the sun she's never, ever truly found.
She's sure he exists only in her heart.
And that's enough to break it.