Summer Nights

The tears on my face are not those of sorrow but ones of a story in the making. Seeing her for the first time crippled my lungs until I could only gasp at her beauty. She was the flower that blooms after a storm. The intricate design of a web in the moonlight. Suddenly I didn’t have to stand. She carried me in her waves of affection until my heart overflowed with a new passion. I saw shades of vibrant color in the pools of her skin. The translucent drops between us forming a rainbow that only her and I could manage. The rainbow of two hearts becoming one. And miles becoming a mere inch. I then realized I wasn’t crying for it had begun to rain. And the cliche wasn’t the kiss but the way I plastered myself to her tall frame in the knowing that I would stay in her arms for eternity. The thunder roared but my heartbeat stayed steady. Finding its own rhythm so as the lighting grew stronger the Sparks grew in depth and my hands held tighter to hers
That Friday night my pupils dilated in darkened clouds of lust. Releasing a pleasant rain among the roses she had bestowed upon me. For they were the first of many and though they would wilt their memory would stay locked in my heart. The smells of damp hair had been washed away by her perfume. It led trails of fog around my head and into my nose creating a scent I would never forget. Hers. That was the night I no longer complained of being tired by dusk but instead came alive with the flashing views of a forever carnival. The place we were destined to be. Admiring her reflection in a puddle on the pavement, not even a ripple could shift her astonishing features. We spend the night on cotton candy clouds, living our funnel cake fantasies, and kissing behind the curtains of a photo booth.

She didn’t take me to my motel. Instead to an abandoned parking lot just south of the Hollywood sign. The ground had dried but I still swam in swimming pools of pure intoxication. Taking out something from a 70s disco film she played a tune. So soft and sweet that my hips swayed to the breeze of the palm trees. The sky was breaking in bubblegum pinks and grapefruit hues of orange. We stayed in the shade of the famous billboard H and swayed in a sleepy haze. Not caring of the run down apartment complex behind us or of the elders with their walkers telling us to get lost. We were already lost in each other. And we didn’t want to be found 
I never took joy in going to bed a day later than the previous but when she laid me down on her duvet and ever so lightly touched her lips to my shoulder. I discovered it was my new favorite way to live. We looked matted and messy and everything in between but the eyes tell a story. And the one I read tonight was the beginning of a book that I’m never going to close. Wrapped in white sheets to the smell of a past rain. Her body behind mine, still with the spell of sleeping. That night I didn’t dream for I was too excited to wake back up


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