Dec 2012
amaranthine (adj.) - endless
I have fallen in love over 735 times. Some things can not be stopped. I have worshiped fingers with my tongue, and memorized their muscle shapes and skin: everyone’s skin tastes different. I have relished voices and lips and the way sounds escape between them. At night I hear them in my head counting backwards for me, and lulling me into another lover.
I have fallen in love with my dreams, every night. In the morning when I push my legs over the edge and take my first conscious breath, I realize I will never see you again. Dream.
I don’t think I’ll ever master the absolute rebuilding of the dreams I never want to leave. Sometimes I feel so complete there, where I can’t look down and see my body, where I just exist in relativity. Wake up, Mourn.
I have fallen in love with strangers ears, 80-something-year-old men who hold their wives wrinkled hands and kiss their sunken eyes, millions of freckles, thousands of laughs, and a plethora of senses.
Your clothes always had a film on them, I used to think it was *****, until I fell in love with the feel.
He used to tell me I cared too much. Sometimes I doubted he really believed this, because when I was really crying [those big salty tears that make your eyes bluer], he would tell me “Wipe those crocodile tears away.”
So I would try with the back of my hand, "but some things can not be stopped.
I have fallen in love over 735 times. Some things can not be stopped. I have worshiped fingers with my tongue, and memorized their muscle shapes and skin: everyone’s skin tastes different. I have relished voices and lips and the way sounds escape between them. At night I hear them in my head counting backwards for me, and lulling me into another lover.
I have fallen in love with my dreams, every night. In the morning when I push my legs over the edge and take my first conscious breath, I realize I will never see you again. Dream.
I don’t think I’ll ever master the absolute rebuilding of the dreams I never want to leave. Sometimes I feel so complete there, where I can’t look down and see my body, where I just exist in relativity. Wake up, Mourn.
I have fallen in love with strangers ears, 80-something-year-old men who hold their wives wrinkled hands and kiss their sunken eyes, millions of freckles, thousands of laughs, and a plethora of senses.
Your clothes always had a film on them, I used to think it was *****, until I fell in love with the feel.
He used to tell me I cared too much. Sometimes I doubted he really believed this, because when I was really crying [those big salty tears that make your eyes bluer], he would tell me “Wipe those crocodile tears away.”
So I would try with the back of my hand, "but some things can not be stopped.
