She used to make the loveliest of sounds. I used to bite her hipbone.
She would sob in my arms when someone had disappointed her. I would kiss her tears away.
And then she used to roll over me and mark my body with hers.
I used to know how she tasted. I remember the taste of happiness, or lust, or sadness. I don't anymore.
I used to make love to her sweetest spot with my tongue. She would make me feel her against my thigh.
I miss her mouth, I miss her chest, I miss her stomach. I miss her hips, I miss her thighs, I miss her legs.
I miss her so much.
She had the loveliest of tastes.
