I could fall in love with her. She’s unique. But not just that. It’s not as simple as that. I know her terrible habits and yet even those habits I could fall in love with!
Like the way she holds a cigarette between her thumb and finger like she’s pinching a fly. She presses her elbows on the window ledge. I am completely fascinated by how she poses. Wondering if what I’m looking at is real or a fantasy. She lifts the disgusting cigarette to her lips and inhales the fog, releasing it through her nose. She makes me want to smoke it myself, it looks that good near her lips, and pressed between them while she lazily hangs her head out the window flicking the gray snow flakey ash into the Autumn air.
Sometimes she’ll show me how scared she is by hiding her face into my chest beside my heart that stamps like Elaphants whenever she’s near me. She thinks she is the only one that’s scared. But when she’s holding onto me, believing somehow that I’ll actually leave her, I hold on just as tight, I’m not letting her go.
When I said I could fall in love with her, I meant that I am falling in love with her