Vernacularvomit

(a piece I hope you’ll enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing. J )

I saw the sunrise in his eyes, and felt the sunset in his kiss. Hypnotizingly he made me retreat to his room. Crack-addict mattress covered in his dried tears. He spends his nights reading expired love notes from past false lovers, but admires my depth like the leagues of the ocean. He sleeps with his doors unlocked for me. Leaves his windows opened for me. He hopes that one day he will get the world back by speaking his words through his mic and in between beats.

He tastes like pure morning dew with a touch of honey. His eyes so rare, not just of the color but I see a star that twinkles in and out of sync whenever we lay together. Silence is nothing but a beautiful essence of stillness and comfort. Incense burns in the background and the lights are turned off, but the firery sunset keeps the room lit with a dark orange.

Love spills out of each of us as we kiss, drowning in each others passion, but not wanting to come up for air. Yes, it’s just that good. We make love to single body parts alone, trapped into euphorias beyond the sky’s limit. He tasted my brown sugar and developed a sugar rush from the love that overflowed out of me.  Jealous eyes taunt us because they feign for a love so unheard of like ours. It tips the axis of the earth. Our heat between each other exceeds the temperature that engulfs the room on colds nights.

Our faith in each other holds us tight together, but detaches our selves from the world. We beg to be submerged into a galaxy, blinded by the fact that love is dangerous, but the shooting stars that immerse us urge us to not be afraid.

So, we keep on going. Passion taking us higher, higher and higher…

Until we collided with the stars and disintegrated with only constellations being the single thing left of our existence.

And we love it.