Blind on the Fourth of July

He kissed her gently, tasting hints of tropical fruits; she kissed him back, passionately, the kind of kiss you think might steal the very air from your lungs. They lay there breathing heavily; their very skin gasping for air. He turned toward her and she lay there facing him; eyes closed with the corners of her mouth curled slightly upward her breathing was now long and slow. He couldn't believe how beautiful she was her skin softly lit from what little light came through the window, her hair slightly disheveled and her uniquely blue eyes looked into his own. He reached out to her and gently brushed the stray hair behind her ear, his fingers sliding down the side of her face, down her neck, following the contour of her form, he traced the outline of her body barely touching her skin. As his hand glided over her side she giggled slightly and smiled. He watched her just breathing for what seemed like hours, eventually succumbing to his own exhaustion he fell asleep.

The morning sun shone brightly through the blinds waking him from the best sleep he could remember. Smiling, he looked over to see the woman who had stolen the very heart from his chest only to find an empty bed; the only thing left behind was the smell of her perfume on his pillow.