The double-hundred-and-twenty-fourth thing I love about us is curling up in front of an imaginary fireplace on an imaginary fake bearskin rug and imaginarially whispering all kinds of very real romantic things to each other!
Soft, so soft, your lips against mine. I am grazed by their grace and drunk on their wine. We touch and we taste, endlessly divine engrossed...
I love that it needs to be a fake bearskin rug even though it's imaginary. (whispered: You're absolutely the sweetest creature ever to live.)
ReplyDelete