An excerpt.
She is beautiful and I’m insane, but we tumble together in a swirl of endless watercolor. Her gravity captivates my soul and pulls my body closer and closer. We are a burning rocket, circling planets and exploring galaxies together.
Hello, heaven.
I’m lost in a fog with her where I can’t breathe but will never die. My hands are skimming every inch of her quaking surface and I can’t stop the words cascading from my tongue. I write them on her body like she is paper, and I am pen. We belong together in this eerie haze of silence where we have nothing but the other.
This is peace.
I’ve never known this feeling of contentment in existence, this perfection, this illusive reality, this pandemonium of precarious potential disaster where brilliance lives. This…this is bliss.
She is serenity and I am chaos, but together we churn and create an original masterpiece where the colors are bright and intentionally smeared together in ways my mortal mind could never understand, ways my dimming brilliance could never articulate.
This is everything.
This. Is. Enough.
“I can feel it,” I tell her breathlessly, my lips on her ear.
“My soul.”