Romeo

The stars were right for Romeo: Opposites melding together like knees and thighs, crossing and uncrossing, like sunlight playing patterns upon trees, life waiting to be picked like an over-ripe crystal, hanging from green leaves.

The leaves cast a shadow upon her face. Her lips looked like strawberries. "What are crystals if not fallen stars?", she whispered. He uncrossed his palm from her thigh. She straightened her skirt, tired of playing the sun to his moon. "Daylight is boring", she whined, her lips twisting like vines. He plucked the grapes, rolled their cold flesh over his tongue, sucking the juice around the seeds, drinking the poison from their purple peels.

The stars were right for Romeo: Opposites melding together like knees and thighs, crossing and uncrossing, like sunlight playing patterns upon trees, life waiting to be picked like an over-ripe crystal, to be shattered beneath golden leaves.