"Lightning strikes the same person twice when they have a feeble mind," she said lightly as her tongue danced delicately between her two lips. I wanted to sip her in with my throat, and devour her entirety, but even then, we would not be close enough for me. But for now, she craved my attention as she listened with her eyes at the things I may say with my own gaping mouth. Unlike hers though, I hadn't a sweet mouth, but one full of darkness, and if you looked at me properly, you would see the shadows that caved into my throat as I spoke.
My hallow chest breathed in, she had all of my oxygen and I tried to contain myself as I cleared my throat and asked her, "Explain what you mean." Yet, I didn't want to hear her words, I wanted to listen to her melodic whispers as she stroked my ear with her bitter voice compromised of a strange masculinity but doused down by her mother's genes and her father's footsteps as he had left.
"Once you think you'll never be hit again, you are," she says as she stands up. Her hips are hugged tightly by her night sky washed jeans, and her chest covered as her heart is by the softness of her cotton t-shirt. I wondered what she was thinking, but knew it was time. I stood up beside her, close enough that I could smell her washed out fruity scent, but I couldn't stand to touch her in fear I'd run my hands through her wild black hair, and my emotions would overcome good-intentions and I'd pin her with my lips.
I tugged at myself, overcome by persistence, but I grew further away as I tightened my face. I looked at her and said, "I guess it's time for me to go then."