This glass world

...I wait for it to shatter

We met beneath a tree again tonight, a night when the melancholy glow of moonshine and the winking white fire of the stars set everything alight even as the solemn tapestry of the sky was inky-dark. Even so, the light wasn’t able to soften the edges of our world, a world meant to be strong and sharp and deadly. Silence locked this forlorn landscape in an airless void, it seemed, and we only needed to wait for suffocation.

But none of that mattered while our lips and tongues sought each other, hot and demanding and needy; none of it, not when our bodies lined up against each other perfectly. Not when we were moving to a burning, fluid-yet-awkward rhythm that we both felt. I could feel the uneven pounding of your heart, the erratic throbbing of mine- our hearts weren’t beating in unison, but somehow the different tempos fit together in an exquisite, jagged way.

You filled my head with such ridiculous poetic notions of romance and then promptly broke those notions into a thousand pieces.

It started with me taking and I’m still taking- god I’m sorry I’m selfish, but I’m never going to tell you that. And those three words are too elegant- stupid, but a pretty sentiment- for this crude thing we have. So I can’t tell you that either. I’m taking as long as you’ll keep giving and maybe I’ll take even when you finally come to your senses and realize what kind of damnation you’re setting yourself up to.

I would have apologized, but it was a moonlit night and your heart wasn’t broken yet. And besides, you’re so goddamn beautiful, but you’re not graceful.

So how can I give you my world? I’d be just waiting for you to drop and shatter it.

x; love, cass.