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A face that matches the sky.
Oh heeeeeeeeyyyyyy (with rizz)
1911
Well damn
malleable mouth like mine to learn.
First timebbi hace ever heard a mouth bing descried as malleableyou saw it here ffirst folks
gombeens
Read this as goonbeams and then heard benson boone siing that song with moonbeams but with goonbeam in my head i need to sleep
the first being the busted lungs God saw fit to give me,
Oh but your destiiny is to falll fr mermaid boy lollll u betterbbb getvto breatthing well
If you felt brave enough to stick your hand in it, it would disappear into the silt, then probably fall clean off your arm once the infections set in.
I breathe in salty air—deeply, for once—and instantly recognize the warm embrace of a Caribbean night. Overhead is a moon so large, the waves swell vertically in a bid to touch it.
Hermoso.
The eye of a hurricane is calm.
In the eye of the hurricane there is quieet
“Noted. I’ll inform the mayor.”
What dies a mayor do anyways
“I’m no invert.”
Yeah right bozo
“Benigno, why in the Seven Seas should it matter who we love?”
“And it’s because, after everything, I still wish it wasn’t true. Everything else in my life is so damn hard already, couldn’t God give me one less complication?”
Imagine my dismay at learning humans would also condemn him for the tender leanings of his heart!
Bro needs to visir georgia
“Merfolk do not do anything. We flow,”
Get a real job.....
But we age too slowly to behave like time is a thing you can outswim if you fill it up with enough doing.”
My skin felt different in the tub. Awake in ways the rest of me wasn’t.
Is merman? If he neer swam thn he woukd neerknow.......... Muahahahahaa
Deft fingers sweep stray curls of his black hair aside, clearing a path for the cloth he drags along his cheek into the supple cleft of his throat. When was his last sip of water? His lips look far too arid. A kiss would restore their shine . . .
tHIS IS SO SENUAL... Maybe theyre gayy?!
What would he do if he knew that, when he is near me, I hunger for more than my freedom?
About a woman—a human chieftain who mated with one of our kind.”
“It brings me pleasure to look at you.”
AAAAAAAA
My hands tightened around my cuatro. “Though,” he added, surveying my surprise, “you seem strangely unaware of your beauty.” “Beauty?”
HELLOOOOOOO!! OMGG
How could I explain it to him? How cruel his kindness felt sometimes?
Mmm this is so real
I don’t feel much one way or the other. Some days the dress fits just right. Other days . . . it’s a skin I’d like to peel off.
“What if I’m not allowed to have what I want?” I asked. “Not allowed? Or too afeart to go after it?” she said, sizing me up. “You and I know fire, Benny. Don’t waste your damn life trying to smother a spark what wants to be a blaze.”
I got out of bed.
WOOOOOOOOOOOO. So me whn i get out of bed
I traverse the sand on fingertips toward him,
LOLLLL tis is so funy tobimagine
“You lot can have your fun—how’d Sam put it?—‘plumbing the depths of your imagination’? Well, if anyone cares to join me, I’m gonna go plumb the depths of the rum bottle in the parlor.”
Boom
“I cannot take your burdens,” he went on. “But if you let me, I can bear them with you for a while.”
If Río was put off by the messy spectacle of human grief, he didn’t show it. Instead, his arms tightened around me until I was crushed against him. Until I couldn’t tell whose heart was drumming against my sternum. He molded himself to my body as if it would somehow keep me from splintering apart, and it was a relief to let him so I didn’t have to.
Need a hug like this
Cause the prettiest girl in Brooklyn wants me, but my heart wants someone else. Someone who knows me better than any human alive—including me. And I don’t even know his name.” Tears were forcing their way into my eyes again. “All I know is that he misses the moon. If I could, I’d ride a roller coaster to the sky just to steal it for him.”
“Río,” I whispered, out of breath, and not from wheezing. “You make me feel like I’m kissing the tides.”
“Benigno,” he whispered back. “You make me feel like I am holding the moon.”
“Te quiero, Río.”
I was deep in the crucible now. Molten. Glowing.
and our place in it.” Jesucristo, nothing makes a lowlife feel high like stomping on folks more spurned by society than they are.
“How much do you love him?” he asked. My voice still sounded like steel wool. “I can’t breathe without him.”
I tried hopelessly to brand him into my mind. Hopelessly, because, when it came to losing people, the more you tried to make them permanent on the shorelines of your recollection, the more time eroded them away. I wondered if he was doing the same, carving my face into his memory, sealing my voice between his sensitive ears.
I’d dropped my English because Spanish has so many words for declaring love, and I needed to use them all before it was too late. And though his tears were invisible in water, we both wept to the sound of promises whispered like prayers through the glass about a future where time couldn’t chase us, where my heart would beat for him for as long as he wanted it—until the oceans boiled and the rivers dried.
