you

i would rather die than let you go

i would kill to live at the curve of your lip, when it quirks up in a smirk that can’t quite be defined as kind but almost certainly, is gentle enough to keep the butterflies in my stomach fluttering. the swoop of your hair, that i could never quite draw, landing softly on your forehead with the precision and confidence only you could muster, the way the strands hold a slight curve, not a wave or a curl, but the curve of a daisy stem tied by clumsy fingers in sun soaked summers to a chain made of various assortments of greens. the freckles, dotted across the bridge of your nose and scattered, like dandelion seeds, across the plains of your cheekbones and jaw. if i drew for long enough i could find the greek gods, ares in the shadowed cluster along the right side of your nose, nike’s wing tucked under an eye. your eyes, god, your eyes. the warmest chocolate-y velvet pressed into gentle a curiosity that can never quite be quelled. i’ve told you time and time again, your eyes in the sunlight drench themselves in a honey that can’t be pulled away from, a mesmerizing flame that never stops glowing.