I kissed her. I don't remember our first kiss. I wish I did.
Sometimes I don't remember things. My life is a never ending story of crazy. A week worth of shit happens for me to the point where it feels like a month.
But this isn't about me, it's about her. Her lips were soft and she tasted of flavored nicotine. I wanted to kiss her so hard to the point that the flavor disappeared.
She didn't know this. The kiss wasn't anything relationship wise. I think she liked the affection and I was willing to give her just that and every bone in my body.
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꧁ 𝐻𝑒𝑟 ꧂
Poetrylove /ləv/ noun 1. an intense feeling of deep affection. lust /ləst/ noun 1. very strong sexual desire. miss·ing /ˈmisiNG/ adjective 1. (of a thing) not able to be found because it is not in its expected place. 2. (of a person) absent from a place...