you're cigarettes+soap+grass

"kiss me" she whispers.
and he does.

he leans in at the exact same moment she does and their lips frantically rush to meet. she's gasping for breath and tugging at his hair, digging her nails deep into the back of his head, bringing him closer and closer and closer to their already inseparable faces.

she just can't get enough of him.

she breathes in his scent-marlboro cigarettes and dove soap and freshly cut grass. she breathes it in like it's her very last breath, mouthfuls and mouthfuls of him fill her lungs, and she loves it. she loves every second of it; she wants him to be in her forever.

she runs her fingers along his jaw, his lips, his nose, every feature upon his face she traces-and she traces his eyes for last.
she spends her time on his eyes.
she traces them with her pinky-the pinky he accidentally broke when they first met. he bought a ring for it, a metal colorful rainbow ring for it, to 'make up for the damage' he joked, and with it she traces his lashes and brows and the corners of his ever dark eyes-and she can smell the metal. she looks up at her night sky and falls into the black-wills herself to drown in its pools of mysteries, mysteries she's solved simply by loving him. loving him with everything that makes her, her.

oh god, she can never get enough of him.

she pulls him in again and whispers how much she loves him into his ear. over and over and over again she whispers how much she loves him. i love you i love you i love you dances its way from the sounds in the cool air, into her heart. she whispers rapidly, words flying, hysteria slowly rising within her, and she feels it, and its scaring her,-yet she can't stop. that's when he places his beautiful hands upon her shoulders and looks her in the eyes;

"stop. baby just stop. kiss me."

and she does.