you loved beer with an alcohol content more than your body could contain. he's lovely and you nudge him in the most delicate of ways because he's beautiful. you whisper the words you wanted to hear and he whispers back. you crawl up in your sheets and submerge yourself into your supernatural thoughts another brain deserves to hear. you walk in the most dangerous labyrinth of the island under the orange street lights thrusting up from the earth and still hear the humming birds eating biscuits dipped in yellow honey — it was gentle waves and light brown eyes tingeing its soft edges hands touching in the cold weather kind of safe. you end the night together with too much alcohol and red cheeks with a numb swollen feet but it's still what you wanted.

you went everywhere and you love it. he's a fictional varmint, too beautiful to be real, but he is. like how the shadows shifts from his small eyes down to your shoulder blades. everything about him and you were like carved on tablets and trees with names written on love letters. you love him because he's real, his rawness engulfs your soul and you know it, he's made for you and you were made for him because you've seen him without using your eyes, how your limbs would fill in the gaps and how the sound waves of your laughs will echo in the chambers of your organs.

you love wine and pour them every single morning and it tasted better than water but he's still the same and everything gets better and better like how your night lamp dimmed in reverse and in the worst of the worsts — a series of perpetual warfare and a great pertinacity of agony kind of worst — you still cling to the moment the Founder of the universe and all the elements of fate, time and space brought you to that day you met. in each accession of the most unfortunate circumstance, there is something that you wanted which makes you want to feel another mili second of tomorrow and another and another.