In the morning, her long hair splaying over the white silk of your pillowcase makes your breath catch in your throat
Lucky you if you’re fortunate enough to kiss a Taurus.
My reality changes, but if I do my daily practice, I increase the chances that the positive side of my reality goes up.
If kissing is a language, a good kisser is someone who says very clearly, “I like you.”
My friend says I should be making out with strangers in bars, that not everyone has to be The One. But that’s not really my style. I’ve never known how to lust.
When there’s great chemistry you don’t even notice what you’re doing because you’re transported to this special make out place with little unicorns and where all of your dreams come true.
You touch me and everything is strawberry and piña coladas, my taste buds favor the sweet side of things. I make floral arrangements out of nerves every time you look at me.
“His breath was so rank—I’m talking demons dancing on his tongue rank.”
I was immensely clamy and I didn’t want to open my eyes because I didn’t think when I opened them it would actually be you. But it was, and that was the first time in years I felt whole.
I think I’m just being honest, but I’m saying things and they are making you feel naked and you don’t like it. I mistakenly assume that everyone wants to be as transparent as me. Me, with my heart dripping down my sleeves. I wear it proudly and then cry when someone breaks it.