(no subject)
he picks me up when we make love, moves me around and touches me softly. we giggle, out of excitement and because we are scared. we laugh and make jokes. we wrestle and he always kicks my ass. he uses his chin as a weapon while i wrap myself up tight and talk about lunch with his mother. i like the beauty that he brings to me on a platter. we are sickeningly cutsie. we make each other pictures and get drunk off of wine. i like to share beers with him and talk to his friends. when he looks at me i can't think. when he smiles at me all i think of doing is holding him close. when he kisses me i forget that he smokes and that he eats frog legs... or maybe i remember and that makes me want to kiss him more. it feels like maybe i've known him longer. he sends me messages when he's at work, trying to drive and text me all at once. i love the way that he smells and the way he moans and the fact that he can't stand to be around me because he wants to make love to me all of the time. he breaths heavy just when i touch him. he makes me stop breathing when he touches me. he orders my drinks and opens my door. he shares his toothbrush and tells me i'm pretty. we chain smoke and hold hands and...
wait, as i writer, i must say, i'm being too wordy; because all i really want to say is that i'm head over fucking heels.
wait, as i writer, i must say, i'm being too wordy; because all i really want to say is that i'm head over fucking heels.