#texting romance
it feels like this:
a storm brewing, the salty wind tumbling into your sweat streaked skin as you stand on the edge of the crow’s nest, a scarf wrapped around your throat and your eyes squeezed half close as you look out into the horizon. the boat rocks beneath you, a gentle sway that bucks into a wave crashing over the sides and your heart leaps into your throat as you grip the wood with wet palms.
your fingers slip. you miss. you fall.
it feels like this:
gravity does not work for you. you grip the edges of the bar and there is a whistling in the emptiness of your skull as you swing, the collective breaths of the audience all held in the middle of their throats as they watch, words tucked beneath tongues pressed against teeth as they wait. when the music swells, all you can hear is the flutter of your eyelashes against your cheekbones and you let go, hands uncurling from the bar and for one breathless moment, there is nothing holding you down.
you open your eyes. you breathe. you fly.
it feels like this:
your blood throbs so fast in your veins you think it might be gold flowing under your skin, brilliant ichor glistening in the sun against your temple as you raise your bow, the string catching the edge of broken calluses on your index finger and you hiss out a bitten off curse. the gauntlets bite into the skin on your forearms and the straps of the breastplate are all stained with mud; grains of dirt seep into the hinges and your body groans when you pull your arrow back.
you let go. you watch. you live.
it goes like this:
on christmas morning, you lie awake in bed. sunlight filters in through the window in fits and spurts; the curtain blows out, and you see dustmotes circling the air above you like a cheap angel’s halo. there is a sigh sitting in the base of your throat, just waiting for you to let it out and your fingers reach out for your phone. merry christmas, you think, and consider sending it to the person occupying your thoughts. you open your phone. the message from him is already lying there for you to see.
your heart stops, flutters, and kickstarts with the force of a stampeding parade of elephants.
