the way i have my hair up today leaves strands loose, reminding me of something i havent thought of before, becoming tendrils of thought that extend from my brain, so much like the delicate legs of a spider or insect, only barely brushing the side of my face, touching my cheek, resting so gently, softly.
almost equivalent to the dream i had last night in the gentle way it positions itself.
where her kiss was so unintentional, but intentional, like she knew and didnt know exactly what it would mean to me. where it was so slight and so almost purposeful that her lips only brushed mine, and only for so short a time that i couldnt tell if she meant something by it.
her smile betrayed her mysteries.
and everything so delicate.
so barely something that it was everything.
and then she kissed me again.
intentional and sure.
and i woke up and spent my day in ugliness.
and i woke up and remembered the wrong things.
and it left a sour taste in my mouth, like i was congested, like my head was too something to be right.