Consumed - Part 1

He’s all I can think about; as he pulls me close. The feel of his warm hips and thighs, pressed against the coolness of mine; the scent of his clothes and skin. His mouth desperate and endless, his lips hungry at my neck.

It’s the way he almost needs to hold me, to keep me in his arms, like belief, like faith, like life and death, to mold his body around mine, to heal me, my heart so fragile with hope. The pain untangles itself, with my head against his chest, helping me to forget. And as I turn my face upwards, into the waterfall of his kisses, this becomes everything. This is everything. The gentle touch of his lips like summer rain, and as our mouths meet, I imagine this is what some might call heaven, like the whispered sound of his name.