she traced my body, her fingers finding every crevice of me. she was like a sculptor, sculpting her piece of art. her fingers slipped over my arm making me shiver.
could i have said what she was searching for? probably nothing but deep down inside i was terrified she'd find something she would never want to see again.
afterall she was a girl that made anyone shake, she made the moon rise and fall. and who was i? i was just a boy.
i was an idiot who bottled up emotions and exploded to the point i'd pass out with an empty bottle in my hand. who'd ever want to love someone with an addiction to a sin? my hands had punched and my body had moved in ways that were unholy.
but with her, she was different. she made me new. rebuilt me from fresh soil.
i buried myself in a grave and she dug me out, allowed me to crawl to her and feel like nothing in this world could hurt me.
i was just a boy and she, well, she was everything beyond this place.
she saw the world as wonderful, she knew how wonderful it was without even being able to see a thing. her world was black and yet she knew so much more than i ever had, even though i could see the colors and beyond.
i was nobody and she was the light.
her hands slid to my face, wiping away a stray tear and i looked at her, wondering how someone could make such a wonderful person.
her touch burned my skin and i yearned to feel her closer and closer till our bodies touched.
"why are you crying?" she murmured, falling back onto the trampoline under us.
"because, i don't understand how someone could have granted me the chance to meet you, Genevieve."
