More than most. Apr. 8, 2017

I need a fire.

Stumbling through foyers with hands too busy with the other to shut the door.

Slam it with our feet, make the house shake.

Tiny earthquakes.

Midnight drives to the ocean.

To lay side by side as the waves crash in the background of our tiny heaven.

Dirty words whispered into the sides of flushed faces.

Constant spark.

Morning hot dreams.

Rolling over to hands sliding in between my thighs.

Heat.

Wind whipping through my fingers on the back of a motorbike. Hands reaching behind for mine.

Bathroom stall stolen kisses.

I crave the passion.

I need more than most.

Static electricity.

 

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