And there she stood.
Mascara running down her face.
Her hair knotted in soaked locks.
Clothes, wet, clinging to her body.
Every curve and feature magnified.
He’d never seen a creature more beautiful
With more vulnerability than she had
In that one moment.
Cold was seeping into his bones
And an ember grew in his eyes.
He could have eaten her up on the spot
She looked so glorious standing there.
His precious angel, all soaked
Was waiting for him to take her
And claim her
And make her his
And show her that she,
With her scars,
Her broken soul,
Her cracked lips
Could be beautiful.
In one swift motion, he pressed his lips to hers.
Such burning desire overtook them.
They didn’t break.
His heart, pounding, wrote her
The most lovely love song.
She almost flat-lined.
The passion struck her hard in the stomach.
Together, they created,
In that moment,
The rawest form of love ever found.
For that moment,
She felt something she had never felt before.
Where it came from,
She did not know.
Maybe his heart
Or maybe his soul.
Maybe he had they key to unlock
What she had been craving all along.
It was rare and pure, that moment.
The love-sick boy
The sick-of-life girl
And every damn heartbreak before him
Was now worth the pain.
And every damn dream before him
Was worth dreaming again.
And every damn tear shed before him
Was no longer in vain.
And every damn time she felt unbeautiful
She would remember this kiss
And her lungs would fill
Her heart would flutter
The one so cold,
Would be able to light the world on fire.