April 15th, 2009

They were in love for awhile.

They would spend their days and nights talking,
and when they finally slept they
dreamt of each other's faces.
But this did not last for long.

He couldn't handle it anymore,
couldn't handle feeling another's breath inside him.
So they stopped talking.
And she fell asleep clutching the letters he wrote
inhaling their perfume,
and finally drifted into dreams of gardens where
sex and drugs didn't exist and
the sky was unceasingly the light colour of dawn and
all kisses were laced with butterscotch and
they held each other and
the boy sometimes allowed the tears to escape,
and she drank them in to taste his pain,
tabacco and bruise flavoured,
Martinelli's mixed with blueberry.

Sometimes they'd walk with their fingers intertwined,
all the while whispering how she never wished to wake up ever.