when I'm alone I smell of coffee and cigarettes. when I'm with you I smell of jasmine and mint. jasmine, the scent I always wear for you, and mint, from your aftershave. when I'm alone I write and read. when I'm with you, I dissolve in your arms and make us lose balance and fall on your bed. sniff sniff sniff. all the scents. you have a strong sense of smell. mine is very weak. you tell me, it's ironic that for someone who always smells so heavenly, you can't smell any of it yourself. I tell you, maybe I exist for you. you ask me, is your heart beating faster too? I whisper in your ear, you tell me, I'm pressed against you. with your warm breath on my neck you say softly, it's a tad bit higher than it's supposed to be. but it may as well be mine. right now, I can't distinguish between the two.
that makes me want to cry. even if my heart beat may as well be yours, I cannot be. how do I always find myself in tragedies instead of soft, simple love stories?
