The backs of fingers, linger, tracing, gentle yet firm.
A cheek, delicately flushed, satin smooth.
The heart suspended as the fingers trace, the labored breathing fanning a warmth upon the digits.
The head turns, lips soft as the beating of a butterfly's wings, reverently embrace the turning palm.
Tremendous description!
ReplyDeleteBe still my heart, you are making me blush Ben!
ReplyDelete