[ WP ] `` Those eyes of yours could swallow stars , galaxies and universes . What hope did I ever have ? ''

As I turned, I thought I could see the strands of your unkept golden hair on the pillow. Maybe even as I turned, I thought I could see your face, shining in the sunlight, glimmering with a warmth I knew from nobody else. My head keeps spinning, imagining the space beside me filled, torturing my own eyes; so, I close them. 
 
 My throat clenched, even the darkness is n't comforting, the water in my eyes making the ebony hard to focus on. I focus my sight, only seeing him again. I hold my breath, remembering his warm touch, feeling it again, my body breathing an automatic reply as I hold my own airways closed. The way he brushed my lips, his fingers trailing, lightly, gently. Involuntarily, I find my own hand, brushing my lips like he used to. Each finger, one by one, no more than surfing the skin. 
 
 Stomach tight, I open my eyes slowly, letting my face wet and find myself gasping, my throat constricting as I allow it out. His lips touched mine every morning, just as softly as his fingers, which would fall to rest under my chin, pushing my face up. I feel myself curl further into my mind, my body following suit. Those gentle lips, pressed against mine again. Pushing as soft as the air between us. 
 
 My gaze falls to your pillow, where I would wake up and see you every morning. You would open your own eyes, and smile like gold, melting me. I thought it was fiction, but it was n't, it is n't. Your body fit mine. Your lips. Your hands. Your hair as I ran my fingers through it. 
 
 Your eyes could swallow stars. 
 
 Galaxies. 
 
 Universes. 
 
 What hope did I ever have. 
 
 *** 
 www.thearcherswriting.wordpress.com
