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Seguimmi o uccidimi.

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“Love Letter”


"My friend once told me  she liked this guy because of his hands And I found it absurd that anyone  would develop feelings over one feature, … and not care about the rest It wasn’t until you used your hands  to cup the back of my neck the first time we kissed  and I could feel your firm grasp pull me closer,  and my insides exploded and my head buzzed with bliss. And the first night you slept over,  you fell asleep with your hand  laid over my stomach  and your fingers felt like a fire  that I didn’t mind burning my skin. The first time we got drunk,  was the first time you played with my hair,  and my god I was hooked,  I’d drink forever if it meant you’d never stop. And in public you’d hold my hand,  and rub your thumb in little circles  that left me wanting you more,  no matter what you would never let me go,  I was glued to you,  and I honestly didn’t mind When we talked about breaking up,  you saw my lips quiver with fear,  and you brushed over my lips with your fingers before pulling me into your lap  and you kissed me like never before.  With your hands on my hips  pulling me so close to you,  leaving no space in between us.  It was then I realized I never wanted you to go Its now that,  I finally understand why hands  were the only feature that mattered.”—Hands, Carol Shlyakhova

sitxlys:*visit my tumblr *

(noun)- a lover of rain; someone who finds joy and peace of mind during rainy days