In love with death

She reminded me of death, with her golden hair as bright as the sun and her smile as beautiful as the night sky. Her skin felt like winter but her kiss tasted of summer, I had had no idea that such a thing could exist, something so intoxicating and exhilarating; my life seemed to have been revolved around her breathing, each intake left me wanting, yet every release ran me out the door. I had no use for love, at least not with her I thought, yet she made me feel so fragile; I could lay next to her all I want, and still she'd be so far away. Why must the moon chase the sun I ask, when every star in the night sky shined just as beautifully? Could it be the danger in her eyes, the way it beckons and pleads with yours, like a moth to flame? If so, then I was close, so very much too close, that all I felt was bliss, this true moment of ecstasy when all else seems to have faded and the only thing that kept me, the only thing that bound me, was this fragile adulterated mess of a girl who reminded me of death, and a kiss that brought life to my lips.