Tuesday, July 20, 2010

A Girl (in six sentences).

When you walk into a crowded room, all I can hear is your footsteps, and the currents running through my veins as your soft skin grazes over mine. I've committed your laugh to memory, so the fluid peels can wash over my flesh whenever I think of you. Your eyes flash curious smiles in my direction, causing my timid heart to seek refuge in my lung. You are the calm amongst my storm. Tomorrow I might talk to you. Or maybe we'll continue to hold on a minute too long while passing art supplies, just to see who's brave enough to let go first.

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