some mornings were made of dirt and some were coated in ash; it all depended on who counted the creases in the sheets slinking over the other's body & waiting for a frost to kiss the window pane. ERROR: IDIOSYNCRASIES DO NOT EQUAL HAPPINESS.
he told you your hair was like fire when you were in bed together but he didn't specify whether it was when you were on top or tucked beside him so you cut it short and called yourself a fairy. ERROR: HE LIKED HIS FINGERS AS TANGLED AS HIS THOUGHTS
you always hung back behind him to watch the way his eyes would scan a room and his body would graze the corners of other sharp edges of skin because body heat always took your breath away. ERROR: YOU WERE NEVER THE FIRST THING HIS EYES WERE DRAWN TO.
but, oh god, there were so many colours everywhere he took you that you forgot how it felt to be drowned out at midnight and to be touched by only ice. ERROR: THE CEMENT STILL BLOODIED YOUR KNEES BEFORE SUNRISE.
you'd gotten so used to loosing your senses & drinking in the light, when he finally stopped paying attention you put yourself back together with yellow stitching. ERROR: HE'D ALREADY TOUCHED THE SUN. ( error 404: love requested cannot be found.)