His eyes of euphoria

Clovers, Sunsets & Hazel

We tried to seal our love letters, letting blue and red dance in our lips as mutters and moans hit the other's throat.

I wonder why we did that.

Did we know that our time was limited, did we realise that the time to fall further into the embrace of the other could last four and a half days more until fear held us back.

Did we know we would last, or did we dare think that our tears would bind us together under heaven?

The pure youthful gallantry we had was admirable, the feeling of invincible sat in the wings of butterflies between our stomachs.

He tasted like cherry and yet I was drunk on wine.

I let go tears still drifting down my cheek, nose still tasting cherry lip balm. He looked relieved and yet ever more hurt, as though he were alight, skin burning. If I were to kiss him once more my sanity would be a tale and yet my sanity was better told by bodies around a fire than instead of his momentary pleasure.

After he went to the bathroom, stifled cries of realisation as he saw a pillar in his memory she was the wife of Lot. Her name never mentioned as fault led her and curiosity anointed her, stupid.

We slept back to each other and yet like magnets his blonde flaunted it's beauty atop my shirt.

The days passed similar to the last, I would tell myself that I should stop and yet a kiss dotted my lips and a plethora his cheek, forehead and that sweet spot at the end of his neck. His eyes had encompassed my body and yet I have freedom. How peculiar an emotion, but I loved it.

To taste heaven though I felt the pits of hell would swallow me in the shower was okay. Because heaven was batting eyelashes, subtle smiles and a,

"Can I kiss you?"

Uttered from the mouth of a sinner or angel.

"Matthew."

"Yes."

"We're on our way, make sure you guys are ready." Her voice was soothing, I could almost hear my mother's hair in that black hair clip. She never stopped wearing it like that.

"Okay, love you."

"Love you more, bye"

She hung up. I could hear car speeding on the freeway so we had around an hour or so, I told him such as he rolled up his mock neck to hide remnants of night and dawn at his neck. He was nearly done just washing those pots and pans, with his duffel bag at the sofa.

He finished, I finished. We both sat on the floor watching the time and a football match from last night. He switched it off before turning to his phone -charging- to play a song by Sufjan Steven, The only thing.

"I heard this song and I've been playing it for at least three weeks."

I smiled, it was similar to him. He turned to me with a smile of le soliel et pourpre.

Gazes interlocked, we had a subconscious feeling that this was about it. For now or forever.

My right hand slowly drifting to his stray hairs, they felt like flowers in my palm. I pushed them behind his ear, as his trance-like gaze remained on me. Each breath intense though they were muffled by the music.

Lips parted like a mailbox, I wondered whether I was supposed to leave their atmosphere. Cherry was so bright that day and yet we hid in the shadows of night. The irony.

"Can I kiss you?" I asked.

He, in teeth of Aphrodite, smiled as he shook his head in a way my hand would remain in-between his locks. Butterflies returned as they had every time before, as we leaned eyes shut.