His touch was a transitory evocation of summer days. You could almost smell the promise of heat and passion. As the winter coldness kisses my face, I think of his breath like the summer breeze whipping salt unto my skin.
To this day, 14 months and 2,756 miles away, no one makes me ache like you.
My body revolts against itself just so it could miss you. Tag that person you’re missing right now. #officiallymissingyou
It has been twelve hours since
my caution melted and I moved
from curling my fingers around
your hand to tracing your features.
Unzip the subtle freckled lines on
my flesh. I swear my heartbeat is
not as cold as my fingertips. You
can wrap your arms around my
winter bones. Let me feel your
hot breath against the notch on
my spine. I will arch my back and
you will smile and whisper how I
taste like summer. And I’ll laugh
as I tell you how you’ve burned me
like the sun. If sin was what we
conquered here, then I swear,
no hell had ever burned so sweet.