Black reminds me of you.

Not in a Gothic sense, but because there seems to be a secret hidden in your every move. The way your eyes shutter close when I look too closely, your quiet half-smile that you don’t feel the need to explain, the wrinkle between your brows when your thoughts drift far away…

I want to know what they mean. What drives you? What goes through your mind?

Black enshrouds you, keeping you away from me. It follows you around, its invisible hands pushing me back whenever I try to move closer to you.

Black is your armor. It protects you from even from those you say you love. Yet, it is also what makes you vulnerable. In the dark, when my body is pressed against yours, I hear your heart beat steadily as you open yourself to me, one painful layer at a time. I cling to you to offer comfort. You welcome me into your private space.

White is the soft light that filters through your windows every morning. I like to watch you sleep while white light moves slowly across your skin. First it touches the tips of your lashes,  it creeps its way down to your lips, slightly parted in sleep, then teasingly skims down your body banishing with it the dark.

I carry this picture of you throughout the day. You bathed in white is when I most feel that you are mine.

I often think about you in black and white: black is the self that you are yet to reveal, white are the moments that tie me to you.