What Are We?
I look into your deep brown eyes and I wonder with every fiber of my being, with every touch of Eros, what in the world is between us?
You'd probably chuckle and say air, or, in those moments you let your guard down, nothing, but for a moment be serious. I know you hate it, I hate it, its hated like Pluto. Yet for a moment, just a moment, we need to accept there is something, not nothing, between us.
What Is This?
Your words melt on my tongue like snow, our lips bringing the sun in the middle of the storm, yet still I look at you and wonder. I'm not Alice, so I can't wonder long, and its killing me sitting here listening to my errant thoughts just screaming.
What Are You?
You're like fire and rain and hatred and love and belligerence and impossibilities and shattered glass locked up in this fleshy body with a beautiful smile. Sometimes your glass juts out, or your fire burns me at the wrong time, and sometimes I don't see enough of your flesh and being for my liking, but you are you and with each stumble you catch me and I'm amazed by you.
What Am I?
With each whispered word you insist I'm beautiful even though I know it must be a lie or a trick upon your eyes. I think I am someone you could care for, and it terrifies me, thinking you might care, because I am the queen of heartbreaks and I either fall so hard or chop off their heads. And I don't want to lose, or ****, you.
What Are We?*
We are everything, we are nothing, we are the world in two people reflecting what every fears and dreams and spends they're whole lives searching for. And maybe, just maybe, we might be falling in love.