The curves
of our bodies,
intricately designed,
like whispered prayers
folded into flesh,
etched by hands that knew
we would meet.
Echo the same thoughts,
synchronously aligned,
your breath,
a hymn against my skin,
your touch,
a scripture I long to read.
Fate stitched us together
in silent knowing,
yet here we stand—
near, but never near enough.
Mar 13, 2025
Mar 13, 2025 at 8:16 AM UTC
The curves
of our bodies,
intricately designed,
like whispered prayers
folded into flesh,
etched by hands that knew
we would meet.
Echo the same thoughts,
synchronously aligned,
your breath,
a hymn against my skin,
your touch,
a scripture I long to read.
Fate stitched us together
in silent knowing,
yet here we stand—
near, but never near enough.
