So Close

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So close,

She can see the goosebumps from her exhale,

Fanning across his collarbone,

Down his contours to where their bodies meet,

No gap between their skin.

Her tongue wants to give chase,

To feel and taste each bump.

Inhaling him in,

Every last detail memorised.

His breath against her ear,

Jagged.

A micro world

Encircled by their arms.

And she’s hoping he’ll never let her go.

There Is No Label For That

I don’t want to be labelled.

For people to assume anything about me,

Because then they expect me to be a certain way.

They have expectations.

I don’t want to have to worry about what they think.

I don’t want to have anything to live up to.

I want to be selfish if I want.

To run barefoot in the rain if I want.

To drop everything if someone I love needs me.

To ignore because I’m. Not. In. The. Mood.

To love. To feel. To be.

In the moment.

To be true to my shapeshifting self.

And there is no label for that.

 

 

 

Inspired by this tumblr post