poetry for the poetic: 5

LXIII

i'm in love with the way he loves her.

the way the flames dwindle to an ocean blue when he ascends the curve of her smile at the back of his neck as he carries her through his hometown.

bounding rooftops and truanting daylight duties to run with the night of her hair and the way his fingers would slip through the strands when she speaks of her fascination of his world.

stars amounted to nothing when he kissed the freckles on her collarbone and her laughter at his temple with lips finding their grace through embraced arms and heartbeat lullabies.

i'm in love with the way he loves her.

he's loved her ever since that first drop of blood against rotten concrete roads and echoed screams of the filth and the vile through the serenity of a hand that guided him to salvation with a sword in his chest.

he's loved her ever since his unmerciful torrent of anger thrashed against her soul unreasonably; only to find an umbrella above his head and the tracks of a faded scar in words of reassurance that embraced him until he was calm again.

he's loved her ever since the first few drops of safety fell from her eyes and hooded her heart with a noose around her neck tied by a string he had cast, and instead took a black blade in her name and cut it loose.

i'm in love with the way he loves her.