He has a tragically beautiful smile on his face. He's perfect. We were born to be together; complements like shadows attached to your body and appendages. The pairing untainted like the image of an old woman eating alone in a cafetaria, or a sunburnt child oblivious to the tragedy she has been afflicted with. The two are inseparable without losing its meaning. I cannot walk into the the darkness without starting to lose sight of myself as well. In a twisted way, we deserve each other. Sometimes I don't notice him – but he always lingers around, surprising me at the bends and corners.
i know i shouldn't. i can help it, but i don't. it's like the junkie looking for just one more fix. a food addict drooling over just one more big mac. one more fuck. one more kiss. one more touch. one more look.