Aug 4
Perfect oblivion
Kissing her is perfect oblivion, but not cold darkness, it’s an oblivion of white hot light. Sound stops, worries stop, being worn away by clicking wheels stops, and all that is, is right now and always, and all that remains is touch, and heat.
Her face is so warm against his, her skin like silk. He kisses her gently, yet intensely, lips searching, finding, caressing one another, the light only getting brighter.
He wants her to know his heart, that she is his love, his home, his heart’s only desire, he wants her to know these things through touch alone, touch without words.
His limps embrace hers deeply, drinking in the feel of her, disappearing in her, his love, his home, his right now and always.
Kissing har is like being enveloped in white hot light, and he longs for that perfect oblivion.
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1 Comment so far
Beautiful writing, I like the part about the quieting down of the incessant thoughts and worries. I’m like that, too, in my more difficult and weaker years it felt like I could only relax when I was touching the person I loved.