he traced the lines of her hands,
creating a story with characters that cannot be seen.
he looks into her eyes with the innocence of a boy,
tainted by the realities of the world.
He could say anything, hurt her, break her, tear her up, and spit her out.
and it would sound like a symphony to her.
reliable, loyal, not at all like him.
not at all like her.
every fault line a bridge in time,
bringing them together.
lies stripped back,
and minds picked apart,
this was their love.