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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1330209
by lora
Rated: ASR · Non-fiction · Relationship · #1330209
Remembering a lost love.
I sniff the air and my senses bring me blindly toward you. The increased desire for warmth, your warmth, drives me closer to your heart. I stop there and curl up. I can feel the uneven rhythm radiating from your bony chest, but I don’t let my skin touch yours. The air is biting cold but your chest is warm, as if the pumping of your heart creates some sort of extraordinary energy force. I rest my head upon your breastplate and absorb the temperature through your thin shirt. You shiver, but hold me closer.

The scorching glow of the smoldering sun soon breaks my concentration. I open my eyes and tilt my head toward you. The beams of light hitting my closed eyelids with warmth and colour create a fantastic contrast to the cold air and shadow of your face. Each time that you inhale I feel as though I am drifting deeper into you. Curled around you, I am still drifting closer to you with every breath of sweet warm air that you expel above me. There is some form of content amongst dull frustration.
© Copyright 2007 lora (scatterheart at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1330209