akuin-akka

Trailing a callused finger across her jutting shoulder blades, you wonder on the intricacies of the human body. How delicate her skin looks, the flush of pale-pink dancing along her cheeks only concreting the image of painted porcelain in your head. You suddenly marvel on how the softness of her skin fares against the rough edges of your own. Just as though physically apologizing, you soften your fingers to a mere whisper against the other’s skin. As you continue to connect the dark freckles, littered as a stark contrast along the pale column of her neck, thoughts of constellations flood your head. Overcome with pictures of the reds and

Watching those stagnant green depths eat away at the surrounding air almost compels this body to rise above the tide and spur the twin pools into motion. "Such is the ocean of no emotion" my father's voice sounds throughout the silence. I look back upon the fuzzy and incomplete picture of a man once cherished, and can not refute this fact. Despite these fading memories my mind clearly remembers how insightful this man was. As my thoughts whirl, I can't deny the similarities. Pictures now blurring, it seems I'm unable to pick one from the other. Green, or blue, there is no difference behind a mind seeing the world in only grays. I stare as a