I want to wake up with your handprint on my hip and your perfume in my hair. I want to be haunted by your touch. Every breath of wind could be an unexpected caress: phantom kisses against my skin.
Tag: romance
Astronomy
Some nights, you set up the telescope. Tonight, we lie on the blanket instead. “Cygnus. Cepheus. Cassiopeia.” Your arm follows the sweep of the sky, like a caress. Four inches from your hip and light years away, I hardly dare to breathe.
Christine Hanolsy 