“I want a screenshot of that,” she said. A lingering rasp in..
Added 2023-05-26 04:35:02 +0000 UTC“I want a screenshot of that,” she said. A lingering rasp in her throat from growling in my ear. “Of what?” “Your mascara worn eyes looking at the camera..” ___________________ The ending of this post is a little different. I wanted to show an insight to how the end of our filming goes. We are a mess, we are exhausted, and yet still lustful for the other. I never take for granted how loved and desired I feel even on my worst days. Even with a beat up body from falling off a bike, when my depression takes over and I don’t have the energy to put into myself. For some reason unknown to me this woman sees the sunlight in my hair and mountains in my irises. She plays connect the dots with freckles as she scans my face and she never fails to put a smile on it. That security and safety of knowing my partner sees all of me and still wants me goes hand in hand with sexual attraction. I’ve never wanted to be touched by someone’s hands so much. The lines that form their fingerprints are my favorite texture. Pupils used to be deep pits to hell in my brain, like a visual for the sound a nail on a chalkboard makes. But her eyes are oceans with sunlight surrounding a lunar eclipse, I can’t look away even well after I probably should. She always says I’m the sun to her moon the Persephone to their Hades and yet in my chest I find nothing but cobwebs and a tinker toy heart that needs to be wound daily; while in hers there is an exploding star, a supernova, bright and expanding bringing light into nothingness. All this to say, I’m not a people person, but for her I’ll be whatever kind of person she needs. Even if that’s just, a screenshot of running mascara.
