Monday, November 17, 2008
He makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, Just one touch
As written on Saturday morning......
I didn’t want to get up this morning. I didn’t want to get out of bed and think about anything besides you. Your hands. Your lips.
I didn’t want to shower. I didn’t want to wash away the smell of you, the taste of you, the touch of you. I wanted to be able to smell you on me forever. I wanted the last things to have touched my lips to have been your lips. I wanted the curve of my hip to still bear the feel of your hand.
In time, I won’t believe my hours with you were real. I’ll forget the wonder of kissing you endlessly. I’ll forget the feel of our sweaty foreheads pressed together, our mouths so close, we breathed each other‘s breath, our lips occasionally meeting with gentleness or with frenzied desperation. We couldn’t get close enough. I couldn’t touch enough.
I hope I’ll never forget how tender you were. How you never made me feel like even one second of our time together was a business transaction, but filled every moment with scorching passion. How every chance you got, you pulled me closer, until I could feel your heart beating against my chest.
You talked to me for hours, about the moments that made up OUR history, while tracing my tattoo with your fingertips and dropping kisses on my shoulders. You told me of the time you had seen me unexpectedly at the office and had been unable to continue your conversation, so stunned by how beautiful you thought I was. You remember my entire outfit, even described how my hair looked.
After the third time, it was clear that we were both spent, and still you wouldn’t let me go- still kissing me right up until it was time for us to part because you had a plane to catch. And before you let me get into a cab to go home, you kissed me fiercely, a last second reminder of the depth of the connection we had just shared.
Today's Title from: Sexy Love by Ne-Yo
I didn’t want to get up this morning. I didn’t want to get out of bed and think about anything besides you. Your hands. Your lips.
I didn’t want to shower. I didn’t want to wash away the smell of you, the taste of you, the touch of you. I wanted to be able to smell you on me forever. I wanted the last things to have touched my lips to have been your lips. I wanted the curve of my hip to still bear the feel of your hand.
In time, I won’t believe my hours with you were real. I’ll forget the wonder of kissing you endlessly. I’ll forget the feel of our sweaty foreheads pressed together, our mouths so close, we breathed each other‘s breath, our lips occasionally meeting with gentleness or with frenzied desperation. We couldn’t get close enough. I couldn’t touch enough.
I hope I’ll never forget how tender you were. How you never made me feel like even one second of our time together was a business transaction, but filled every moment with scorching passion. How every chance you got, you pulled me closer, until I could feel your heart beating against my chest.
You talked to me for hours, about the moments that made up OUR history, while tracing my tattoo with your fingertips and dropping kisses on my shoulders. You told me of the time you had seen me unexpectedly at the office and had been unable to continue your conversation, so stunned by how beautiful you thought I was. You remember my entire outfit, even described how my hair looked.
After the third time, it was clear that we were both spent, and still you wouldn’t let me go- still kissing me right up until it was time for us to part because you had a plane to catch. And before you let me get into a cab to go home, you kissed me fiercely, a last second reminder of the depth of the connection we had just shared.
Today's Title from: Sexy Love by Ne-Yo
Labels: b-boy
Posted by Chloe
at 11:09 AM |
Permalink to He makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, Just one touch |
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