Thursday, October 25, 2012


I want to lie in a room, with the light bleeding through the blinds, white and fresh and beckoning. I want to ignore it, and run my fingers up you body, over your navel, along your collarbone, and over the curve of your lips. I want your contented sigh brushing the palm of my hand, a promise of a happy life. I want the look in your eyes and the quirk of your mouth that silently exude a love and affection like I'd never thought possible.

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