o:


Sex.Would we taste the same if we dripped with the same Vehemance? And can we go back to a time where we shyly hid our middle names, And touch was a thing we weren't used to? Silence hid the same way our gaze did from each other. Our feet were a thing to be studied, it seemed. As we fumbled awkwardly, Our hands a thing to be twisted. And twisted again.Sex.
But would they interlock the way we longed?
Copious amounts of emotion filtered through our words. And the right ear could pick out a note of loneliness. The right nose, pick up the scent of our nervous fever as we comm
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I never saw a wild animal feel sorry for itself.
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-I'm part of *PhotomanipulatorClub
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