It was remembering the wetness of our kisses and the feeling
of his lips against mine, just that feeling isolated in time and space, no
picture to accompany it but just that strange indescribable meshing of slippery
projections sliding over each other trying to feel something that couldn’t be
felt with fingertips.
Sunday, September 15, 2013
Fingertips
It was remembering what it felt like to have my face against
his neck, feeling our skins touching, and my smooth to his scruffy. It ignited
this feeling in the pit of my stomach causing me to inhale and try to smell his
scent as if it would be wafting through the room at the mere recollection of
his presence.
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