confession london
REFRESH. HISTORY. MEMORABLE. IMPORTANT.

CONFESSION TIME: And when you don't know what to say, say nothing at all.



He stared through the windshield, his eyes on the empty dirt road in front of us. Watching the winds blow some red rocks around, watching the sunflowers swing in the breeze like they're dancing to their own summer tunes. I look at his tanned skin, some lines here and there from too many laughs in too many years, some little flaws, scars, spots but nothing that could ever come close to that unique green spark in his beautiful hazel eyes.
I ask him what's wrong and he looks over. "Nothin'", she says. Smiles a little. Looks back at the road.
I ask him how it comes that sometimes his eyes shine so light brown like the golden sand at the beach but sometimes they surprise me in a deep green. He laughs. "It's because of what I look at", he says. So when would they be green, I ask again, curious and a little sassy. The warm wind feels good in my hair, refreshing but still like a soft warm blanket, comfortable but wild at the same time.
"When I look at you, sometimes, they're green. When I watched you climb over that fence to feed the bulls in your shorts and boots, they're green. When I thought about what you would look like in a bathing suit, they're green. When I look at you riding shotgun next to me right now." I nodded. They were green right now. Green like the pond water sparkling in the summer nebraska sun. Green like a fantasy, a mystery, like a love story that was too good to be true.
23.2.16 20:34
 


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