kaipaus.

Your collarbones temp me to follow them under your dress, and I believe your lashes taste like a late summer petrichor. My spine shivers in pulses as I feel your porcellain skin moving, moving with every word you're keeping silent, moving with every thought you haven't shaped yet. It's been a while since I touched you, but my love, your spring breathing still burns inside my fingertips, and the ice inside my eyes is thawing off. I lay myself to sleep, and your shadow slowly transpires from my sheets, and I wake up, and I'm breathless, and I miss you, I miss you.