she smiles with diamonds in the crooks of her teeth and looks at you with eyes of telescopes that transport you into the stars, she kisses you with her pomegranate lips and tells you that even though you are flawed she has never seen anyone so perfect and so you fall in love in a single sentence that runs on and on and on because words don't correctly describe girls like her, the ones with wide eyes and crooked spines- she is yours. but are you hers?
in a sense i guess you could laugh, but she belongs to the universe and all its stars because she was born a nebulae and everyday she gets closer and closer to the sky, her fingertips can almost grasp the protruding stars and though it will burn she will be okay because her skin is kind of like plexiglass. in a sense she belongs to no one and nothing, not even herself.
you can leave your mark upon her skin but it will fade, the galaxies you press upon her skin with your tongue and your white teeth will fade, the bruises from lusting fingertips and straying smiles- they will fade and once again she will be no ones in a sense that she is everyone's.
she smells like chocolate bars and peppermints and strawberries and a spontaneous little mixture of summertime and winter blues and even though she kisses you, she knows that nothing will ever last. she is slowly detaching herself from your grasp, and though you yearn to hold her at night you are holding a ghost of a girl- will this suffice? she'll leave her silage on your sheets and you'll be missing her more and more and more as the days go by and she does not return.
you see her in the corner booth of a coffee shop on third street and even though it is four am you knew that she would be here, sipping on a black coffee and eating peppermints, crunching them between her teeth like she did your bones. to approach or to not approach? sure her touch will burn your skin because of all the tragedies she's lived in, but it would be worth it, to know that she's not just a figment of his imagination and even though the dark brown color of her eyes will never cease existence in your mind, you know a girl like that only belongs to time.
- SHE BELONGS TO NO ONE
[in which we think love bonds us together, we are fools.]
I KNEW A GIRL LIKE THIS. MY DEAREST ARIA WHO WITHERS WITH THE DAYS AND THOUGH SHE SEEMS FEARLESS SHE FEARS TIME ITSELF.
