Noise and kisses
Post show chills leads us to cherry lips touching coffee breath…turning off the lights and turning off the shyness, we are two explorers in the dark, map-less and hopeless. Nothing ever feels as good as sweaty hands fumbling on the buckle of a belt.
Mapping the atlas of my body with all the ferocity in your soul. The curved arch of a thigh, pinning me in place. Balmy breath on tender ears. The slow caress that lingers and multiplies into more. The pressure of your hips and mine, devastatingly beautiful. Musky scents of you mixed with vanilla scents of me. I can feel the ends of your hair on my neck, as lips blaze a trail along my collarbone. Inhale, exhale, move in time.
Barely awake, catching my breath. I hope that the fingertips of my words run over the curve of your neck and into your ear. Saying “I love you” was never as easy as it is now. Falling asleep, warm skin touching underneath even warmer sheets.