skin

It started with a touch.

The smallest, most delicate stroke. A breath of fragility so cold, so warm, it sends chills throughout your entire body- and yet

your on fire.

Suffocating in that sensation where two souls,

are connected into one.

Her graceful fingers dance across his skin, ever so painfully slow.

Their hearts beat

faster and faster,

as their hands move

slower

and slower.

Until time stands still. For only but a split second,

the world revolves around them.

Her skin,

the softest silk, is hesitant, exposed, pure.

His skin,

rough, yet tender, is strong, warm, passionate.

Their skin is trust.

Their skin is faith.

Their skin is real.

An unseperable cord entangled in an everlasting beauty,

stretching across the separate unity of their past.

It started with a touch.

Her skin to His.

The exposure.

The exposure to imperfect perfection,

the exposure to the truest truth.

You find yourself in them

Where you were lost before.

Intoxicated in the contours of their form,

leaving you gasping for breath.

You are found,

you are found.