(Source: quotesandnonsense, via uhitsveronica)

He knew it all, but never the obvious

Intricately created

From the mystery that he wore like a invisible robe

A lover, only once

I would only get glimpses into his heart

Never touching it for long enough to feel an entire beat

His dancing fingertips, sauntering around my waist and up my back were the only signs of his Sentimental Mood

His favorite song

I thought of him on cold trains and under orange moons

A musician

Pushing his thumbs down into black and white rectangles

Singing in off keys

He knew just what songs to play

The ones that said everything I had ever wanted to say to him

Between the lines and in every beat break

We would bang out rhythms on wooden tables

He would beg me to dance

So unaware of the fires he started

Illuminating the darkest rooms

He said he knew me

He said he knew every expression that my face could make because I had looked at him with every single one

It was true

He said every thing without uttering a single word

His body language could have spelled out his exact sentiments in mid air had his heart or mind been able to function like a typewriter

But neither of them could

So I would just feel his soul whispering to mine

Revoking our platonic vows

His tail carried seducing venom that made my Libra scales fluctuate like an un-calibrated seesaw

Painting memories

His in washable watercolor

Mine in permanent acrylic

Somehow he always managed

To leave his strokes on my canvas

Coating my every curve with swirls beautiful and boisterous like monsoons

But

He is my friend

He is just my friend

We are not just friends

Sometimes to the point where it seems we are just not friends

A title

Too simple

Yet fitting

Easy

Our story lied in the secret of a flower

The last petal fell

He loved me not.