Your smooth hands adorned my ivory curves as though you've never had someone to love and love you back.
You followed the trail of my veins and sent electricity through my joints.
You loved me with that look you gave me: the look that unmasked your beautiful, broken soul. The soul I loved to adore and hate and question and plead and pry and ponder. The soul that restored mine magnetically.
Two polar bodies we were-- attracted to one another with an undeniable pull.
North and South.
Hydrogen and Oxygen.
Black and White.
If only my 10th grade chemistry teacher could give a demonstration of the firey end we were destined for. The fiery end that could never happen- we were water to the flames.
The H2Oh my goodness you are everything to me and if you were ever to leave me like water into vapor I don't know what I would do with myself.
But that day came.
I turned the flame underneath you and allowed you to evaporate into the atmosphere.
I now understood your fleeting and unpredictable behavior, and now I know how I passed with an A in 10th grade chemistry.