Sundays are for lovers


With eyes half shut, and golden glows falling in cascade on your skin, I draw flowers sprouting from your spine. There are words that send me into a frenzy, and then there’s the sound of you breathing into this morning light. I see you wrapped up in sheets that don’t stand a chance to the softness of your touch and I wrap you up in arms that crave to get lost in you.

My dear, don’t get me wrong, I want you in all the glory of what that word  entitles… 

But when your chest rises and falls with such serenity, to the beat bursting through my veins, know that my walls crumble. And know that when I whisper I want you, it doesn’t just mean I want my skin against yours, it means I want to forget where my skin ends and yours begins.

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