May 15, 2018
sincerely, yours
( You arouse in me such a mixture of feelings. Only come to me—get closer and closer to me. It will be beautiful, I promise you. )
He thinks she’s beautiful this way, asleep right in front of him and he lifts his hand to brush hair away from her face, like a porcelain he dare not to press enough strength on. Then he traces his fingers against her skin, where his lips has marked last night. On her neck, down to the curve of her bare waist. She’s bare, exposed-- fragile. He swears he has never seen anything more full, she voids his emptiness so much.
He continues to gaze, to play against her bare flesh. This is their own lazy morning.
“Good morning” he whispers.