He talks like the happiest man, with words full of energy and enthusiasm, but I loved him for all the words he spoke when he chose not to talk. I was slipping into him through gaps he left between his words.

Even the silly hair strands behind my ears danced, when he leaned to whisper his love. The tone of his voice replaced all my addictions. As he spoke, I felt his breath on my earlobe and no breeze ever touched me as gently as that.

A thin layer of melancholy kept glowing in his smiling eyes, deeper and darker. I stared at his lips just to see his crooked teeth, the one that always makes his smile look so perfect.

Countless memories curling around my bones, a thousand flowers blooming in my veins, but none of it means a thing for he never tried to touch me, to feel the fire under my skin, set by none but him.
🌸
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