She could trace the detailed lines of his body with only her vivid memory of the first night they slept together. She could draw road maps across his silky skin. Each scar would resemble one of the places on her journey where she had felt defeated. Completely earth shatteringly alone. Permanent markers, memorials even, of the tiny parts of her that have died along the way.
He had small patches of dryness around his hands. A break from the velvet soft multi colored masterpiece that covered him from head to toe. The body paint forever stained on his human canvas displays portraits of the broken hearted boy he used to be.
Through his rough hands she can feel every fist clenched argument he faced, and every solitary blood soaked tear he shed. Drying out the bruise stained skin that covered his fragile fingers.
Neither one of them were alone anymore. Their limbs entangled in the same eternal formation as the veins are in a barely beating vessel. Her jagged smile breathed new life into that heartbroken boy, and his idle hands mended her long deceased memories.
And they live on....
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