They met for the first time on the beach.
They had talked to each other before, spent hours together but it was on that beach, for the first time, that their words intertwined themselves around each other like lovers' arms. It was that night, when they kept coming back to that beach that their eyes met and began a conversation that had never happened before.
Through the sadness that stood caged like a prisoner in their eyes, they smiled and laughed together for the first time.
She was fire, ruffled and impatient. Every bruise she had carefully embroidered on the veil of innocence she wore unknowingly, the fire consumed her everyday.
She lived in a box and crawled deeper and deeper into its dark womb. The lid seldom opened and when it did, the world outside charmed her until she became tired of her capacity to marvel and retreated into its dark womb further.
He was the silent waters of the river, tat ran so deep, it filled up the abyss, he too didn't know existed within him. He was built by patient sadness, brick by brick until it stood firm like a tower. But when she rested against him the insides of his body took the shape of her small back, which forever etched itself within him.
At times, it troubled him when he tried to sleep at night. The impression of her small back and how his arms instinctively went around, embracing the whole of her, feeling the dull hymn of her hurting heart in the palm of his hands, knowing that from then on they were bound together by that which was common in their waking conscience and living in their sleepless dreams- Sadness.
They had talked to each other before, spent hours together but it was on that beach, for the first time, that their words intertwined themselves around each other like lovers' arms. It was that night, when they kept coming back to that beach that their eyes met and began a conversation that had never happened before.
Through the sadness that stood caged like a prisoner in their eyes, they smiled and laughed together for the first time.
She was fire, ruffled and impatient. Every bruise she had carefully embroidered on the veil of innocence she wore unknowingly, the fire consumed her everyday.
She lived in a box and crawled deeper and deeper into its dark womb. The lid seldom opened and when it did, the world outside charmed her until she became tired of her capacity to marvel and retreated into its dark womb further.
He was the silent waters of the river, tat ran so deep, it filled up the abyss, he too didn't know existed within him. He was built by patient sadness, brick by brick until it stood firm like a tower. But when she rested against him the insides of his body took the shape of her small back, which forever etched itself within him.
At times, it troubled him when he tried to sleep at night. The impression of her small back and how his arms instinctively went around, embracing the whole of her, feeling the dull hymn of her hurting heart in the palm of his hands, knowing that from then on they were bound together by that which was common in their waking conscience and living in their sleepless dreams- Sadness.
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