rosanoir
The curve of beige along fine silk. Lace wrapped around a tiny figure. Arms engrossed; skin on skin. Kisses flash of fire and passion. Light from eyes bring stars into the room. A tiny moment of lust; of love.
Walking through the salty fresh air, the breaking of waves brought me back to the sea. My toes crushed into the sand, like long lost lovers, curling into one another. Hair scrambled through the wind, as the fresh air defeated me, and nothing was left, but heels in the sand.
There are silver moon beams, laced with the finest snow like glitter. Iced upon the surface of a crystal lake, my toes glide across like razor-bladed skates. They told me I love to wander. I guess they're right. They're always right. But what is passion but a dream. And I wander in every dream that mirrors fantasy. Every single one.
His hair, vibrant blue eyes, the sheer smell of him made me wild. The proximity of our bodies, and entangled limbs, his lips on mine. It was a moment, it was forever, it was my obsession. It was love.