ph by dev
it happened to her one day when it rained. she was alone, or it was something inside her that was alone. a soul filled with distractions, she was searching for a love which would shot her towards illusionary heavens in flame; bursting, blazing, burning the endless sky.
probably it was the connection, probably it was a physical connection after all. he drew her close, he really was. he spoke of the stars and let the calmness of the rain washed away/cleansed his inner doubts. he was simple, he was in no way sugar-coated; but her thoughts about him that day weren't justifications, they were doubts. she always believed in internal doubts as the right hands of paradox.
they were connected somehow, it was through a channel so dark, so lacking in hopes she could hardly recall the lingering hunger of youth, but their hidden affection was something de profundis/in excelsis thing. she was more Wilde, and he possessed Bosie's beauty, vainness; he got arrogance, too, but it was something he wished he could hide over time.
they convinced themselves to believe in crossed stars, because their Uranian love didn't meet her standards while he was just too perplexed for that.
she smiled at him and said "love, some of us are looking at the stars."
