used to refer to a thing or things belonging to or associated with the speaker and one or more other people previously mentioned or easily identified.
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3:10 pm Seoul
My inexorable love; as vast as the Atacama desert, as solid as the hardened sand, as beautiful as the cream, brown and reddish undulating patterns that paint those lucky few. The lucky ones. I was the lucky one here and she was beautiful. My heart beyond me, gone. And like it, gone was any chance of dissuading me and my inexorable love. Could I press my matter further? Likely. Could I dip my head an inch and kiss her fervent? Likely. But will I keep this arduous distance? Yes. For the way her chest heaves against mine and the whiney sound she makes whenever I rock my thigh between hers. For the friction. For the increasing desire. For the growing dampness between my legs. And because I know she's just as wet.
I hold still and let only our lips brush, hover and move near and over the other. Neither Jennie nor I dear silence the buzz between us. Not yet. This; with my head full, heavy, falling forward, pressing almost (already) sweaty forehead against forehead. That and my ever-growing struggle to open my eyes, the wetter I get the lower my lids fall, have me at bay...in a way. If you ignored my heart's current unwavering palpitation then you would find me at peace with our standstill.
I wasn't moving. No compromise yet to shake this wonderfully violent feeling.
For now, I fight the tide. Enjoy my incoherence and allow my current daze to send my weak knees buckling, lips bumping, trembling, teasing hers. Hers then teasing mine.
We were so close that every move was felt.
She closes her mouth - she brushes my own. I tilt my head up - our noses lightly touch. She wets her lip - I die.
Who knew death could feel so good. Who knew a kiss without a kiss could cause so much.
Inexorable. It made my love for her feel inevitable, unceasable, relentless, persistent.
Steady.
Unlike myself. But I like the combination, nonetheless. The juxtaposition, yeah. I liked me drunk (even, or especially in this sober state) and I liked my love firm.
"I love your place" she whispers because that's all she needs to do for me to hear, crystal, clear.
A smile escapes and hooks the corner of my lips up. And with it I'm elated.
"Is that right?" For a moment I close my eyes, breathe her in, and make no effort to be subtle about it.
