Try Anyway
I tell her she is beautiful again and again.
I tell her she is beautiful. She tells me it's the lighting, or the angle, or the filter. I tell her she is beautiful again and again, hoping she believes me. Her bright green eyes stop my heart and her kisses start it once more. I died a thousand deaths the night we first made love; the dead man I was born to be, but again and again she kissed me. An evening rain taps on the window quickening our racing hearts. Her eyes...