I'm not the man you met three years ago.

[ScurryFunger]

Delicate wispy fingers gently interlaced
his tired bony knuckles.
and a soft palm gently caressed
the most tender part of his sore neck.
"usted es la mujer más bella del mundo."
he said to her. she taught him that.
how to say it.

and then the bell tolled,
and the our of fate was upon them.

she was a tower of skin and bone
with smooth firm flesh
and eyes the sort of green that brands your soul...

they leave a mark that never fades.

her hair was a dark and lovely storm
that fell so easily over her shoulders.
and she had eyes the sort of green that brands your soul...

but he didnt love her.
no.
not until it was too late.
he broke her heart a dozen times
before she ever even touched his.

and once he allowed himself to feel her there
she burst forth from him with vengeance.

but even now his mistakes are not regrets.
even if she hates him.

He was a tower of skin and bone
with pale, scarred flesh,
and he had eyes the sort of green that fades from memory.

his hair was a dark and lifeless form
that dangled meagerly across his face.

and he had eyes the sort of green that fades from memory.

but she loved him.
yes.
every single day.
until the day before
he loved her back.

she offered up her heart to him
a dozen times with no avail
before she turned her back on him.
but even now...
her mistakes may be regrets.
because he may still love her.

and the delicate wispy fingers that interlaced so gently between his tired bony knuckles are gone now.
and the hour of fate is upon him.

Gosh, sorry, there is so much wrong with this. and puncuation. is just six.

The bells, the bells, for whom do they toll!

Pretentious use of a foreign language anyone?

Too many mentions of too many different coloured eye colours of different people.

All that bony interlaced finger stuff was ok though, even if you did milk it.