her demeanor is pressed upon the pores of a valley, listening to the echoes that ring to the bottoms of wells. a vast array that telepathically communicates admiration. vibrations escape the tunnel of her opera, making the hairs stand on end.
you are back.
or am I? a blindfold has presented itself in a manner most degrading, but seemingly trivial. who cares. what matters is what we feel.
what do we feel.
my sun gleams in and across the dew spread between worlds.
her light magnifies through the looking glass of our retrospective.
a war waiting to start. we know the end, but not the means.
"hmmm, I've missed you."
"I've missed you too."
"you still don't love me, do you?"
"wh-what?", her question came as a wave of terror-hopefully not visible upon my face.
"I always knew, you know-that there was someone else-there had to be. you always seemed to be so dazed with-"
"I love you."
"you don't mean that, greg. you never-", my foot found its way to her face; her playful screams and laughs alleviated the weight upon my chest. the torture was over.
"brittany, I've been so preoccupied chasing after ghosts that never existed. I was wrong-listen to me," my hand-feet take hold of her face. she smiles.
so beautiful. that smile, that unique tic of unwarranted veracity and elegance.
she seems so innocent and fluid to me, "I love you but have always been too scared to embrace it-too unsure of its lifespan to give you comfort in my words. I just didn't want to be hurt-I was being selfish."
"its okay, I understand. I've felt that way before, but never with you. I just want you to know that you make me happy and I don't need anything else, I love you."
"hmmm."
ho-hum.
her smile rises above the horizon. in this moment. it fuels what i need.
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