She just started smoking. Usually I hate
the smell, but in that second, I could care less.
I got word from her a moment earlier.
Didn't hear all the words; only a few popped out...
"I"
"Wanted"
and "You"
Our lips interlocked...time froze
and sped up as if in sync with each other.
Her tongue: the bow on my violin.
We made
music
together.
My hand: the wind
flowing through her hair, throwing it back.
Our legs intertwined like vines and a fence.
One second melted
into twenty minutes and my heart
attacked itself, thumping the hammer
to its own anvil.
She makes me weak. She's my vice. The habit
I want to kick but can never find an excuse to
S
T
O...
P
She takes my breath away.















Critiques
Thank you for your Critique
You are not logged in.