Love came.
Love left.
It was romantic.
It was ugly.
He gave her a rose.
That was half dead and bought for $2.99.
She took it and smiled.
She allowed herself.
He kissed her.*
She kissed him, knowing it would be the last time he saw her.

The sparkle in your eyes burns like a recently lit candle.

The subtle hint of mystery in your face is so small yet so defining, almost like a cricket, barely visible yet so appearent.

There this look in your eyes that pierces right through my soul like a hot knife through butter.

Your beauty struck me like a well shot bullet, and I didn't dive away, instead I took the hit and let it take the best of me.