m a t i s
we settle on a worn, old couch that sags under our weight but i hardly notice because i am too enchanted by the beauty of his eyes, the curve of his smile, and the constellation of freckles on the bridge of his nose and his sunken cheeks.
we eat the panini i bought, the silence between filled with our steady breathing and the beating loud hearts and buzzing chatter all around.
but i find myself wanting to hear him speak, to hear the soft lullaby of his words so i ask "what's your name?" and his eyelashes, strands of spun gold, lift to reveal his enchanting blizzard-blue eyes and he considers me for a moment before replying,
"jupiter. my name is jupiter."