How cliche...

She watches her there as she smoothes her hair down
The comb floating through like it was water.
It seems odd to think she'd ever think of her at all
She stares out the window
Moonlight turning her skin milky white
How does she encompass such beauty in a few pithy words?
The comb clatters to the floor like lightening
It scares them into each other's arms
They huddle close in the dark,
Their arms entwined,
Fingers laced.
Her hand travels up her back to her neck as she kisses her
Gently but with immense passion
And a few whispered words are exchanged
And her broken eyes shed a tear
Because now she knows.
Her black hair flows like honey over her shoulder and she breathes in the scent
Of a lover's embrace.