I can't touch you, but, god, do I want to; to feel you, hold you, to kiss you until I can't feel my lips and my skin is turning blue.
I bet your touch is like poetry.
Soft and flowing, but more meaningful than the air I breathe.
No, you are my air.
I want to feel your arms around me, pulling me closer until there's not even an atomic sized space between us.
To kiss you, that would be more than heaven; you're more divine than the highest goddess, more ethereal than the most prized of God's angels.
