It wasn't about just having company. It was having her pressed up against me. It was holding her in her most vulnerable stage. When her past was gone. It is just me, her, and the absence of life lying over us. I wanted to make love to her in the most innocent sense of the phrase. Not tongue to tongue, but heart to heart. With every secret whisper, a carving in stone. Every touch, a chapter in the book i never want to finish.
YOU ARE READING
Imprisoned Thoughts
PoetryThe thoughts that will never leave my lips. And with little hope, will never leave yours.
