lank tangles

 

this boy ---

the way he moves, every action driven by childlike curiosity, spurred by shy resolve and delivered with terrifying precision in this lazy-confident manner, that is incredibly, incredibly sexy in a naive, clumsy sort of way.

 

this boy ---

i am the bitch who will bite the head off of anyone, at least in my head, for senseless talk and grammatical sins, but i wouldn't trade his vain attempts at romance using broken sentences for anything.

 

this boy ---

when i brush my lips against his closed eyelids and feel his own lips curve into a smile on my throat, i am stepping into the heartbeat of a fever; i've embraced the sun.

 

neither of us know when and how "US" began  ---  maybe he has an idea, but it's so typical of him not to breathe a thing (he floats on with so much in his head, all in muted colors, all the time); i'm at sea, really  ---  but i don't give a shit, and he doesn't look like he's going to start anytime soon either, but would argue tooth and nail that i kissed him first, and if i did (i really don't remember), i don't regret it, because if i hadn't (assuming i really did) there wouldn't be an "US".

 

two years. who'dathunk we'd get this far? *kilig*