your hair was forever falling into your flawless face. you always insisted on scolding me for saying it was flawless.
"there's a scar under my eyebrow and freckles covering my cheeks," you almost shouted through your flirtatious smile. then it faded and you looked a little sad as you said, "i'm not perfect."
i guess you didn't care that i thought you were anyway.
YOU ARE READING
float
Random[finished] thoughts are whispers floating in the wind, capturing every part of our being in the way only we know [lowercase intended]
