Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Writing

Love Story

Tasting your lips as the Taylor Swift record you put on spins to the last second,

we are surrounded by silence,

enveloped by the insistent heat of the summer night,

and the moonlight that moves through the curtains onto our skin.

I kiss you, again,

our love story, layered and luscious,

standing and then falling,

rushing until we are a splatter of blood red passion on the bedroom floor.

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