Slip of a Girl

She is a slip of a girl. Deceptively tiny. She crawls into my arms and twists her arms and legs around me in a most particular way. She seems to be everywhere, all around me and yet she fits in my arms so neatly.

When she is kissed her eyes close. When she kisses she steals peeks. When her neck is kissed and bitten she is mine and I revel in that. When she gives her body to me, it is fully. Every curve and expanse.

I lay down in the now empty rumpled bed and swoon and swim in the memories.

We shared things in each other arms. We took ourselves and each other apart. We got into each others head.

It’s like we are distilling some romance into two weeks. Each minute is potent. Each kiss as powerful as seven from other lifetimes.

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