wet skin to skin; a tightly gripped kiss - urged lips that surely wished they had spoken their feelings first, then to seem like they’re both trying to quench each other’s thirst. still shivering in my nerves that I’ve grown so lost for my words – trying to find my identity in your eyes surface ...you look too beautiful for me to even claim
it’s my own shame, that sticks on my throat like a smoker’s cough – though this love sickness is worth the bit of irritation, of not always knowing what to do when I’m so close to you ...so yes, I held you, and kissed you
but that wasn’t the initial plan; you rested in my arms and I had my words for you ready and armed – but my hand in it all had lost its touch. darling this is so much of a rush for just a simple crush, to us finally going out, more than once …I just wish that from the beginning, I had told you,