Bleed a little. Then a little more.

Darling, you’re in my veins.
I thought you knew.
You’re my midnight conversation,
With the stars and the cold North wind.
I thought I told you.
You,simply put, are important.
But now you’re why my smile falters.
I stopped thinking when I kissed you.
I keep thinking you already know.
I keep thinking I’ve sent you letters that were only ever written in my mind.

~~*~~
Inspired my Iain Thomas.
Last two lines are his work.

Kiss Slowly.

There’s a lot this particular theme makes you think about. I couldn’t think about anything to focus on. In the end,I just went for it,you know,like you’d go in for a kiss.
***~***
She. She is shrouded by the shadows, save for a dim light that throws into sharp relief her angular jawline. Where is she? What is that light?
  Is she in a garden at midnight,waiting for her lover by the light of the moon?
Is she on the porch after curfew,silently saying goodnight to that someone?
Is she on the balcony,sneaking in a few stolen moments?

In silence,she waits,a midnight blue shawl covering her shoulders. She pulls it tighter around herself,folding her arms against her chest to keep out the winter chill. Her eyes search,even as the night becomes darker.

She can hear the owls hoot. All she has to keep her company are the thoughts swirling around incessantly in her head.
The sound of car backfiring in the distance makes her jump.

Her face jerks upward,her long,chestnut hair whipping across it in the wind. She’s still waiting,her eyes shine with anticipation even as they betray a tinge of desperation.

Is it a long awaited meeting? A repressed desire slowly coming to the fore?
Or is it the last meeting of two people bound inextricably to each other?

The sound of footsteps betrays his presence.
She can hardly breathe,she closes her eyes, the maelstrom of emotions almost too much to bear.

They meet.

And when he picks her up and twirls her around, the sound of her spirited laughter is more melodious than anything ever heard because it rings with true happiness. He puts her back down on her feet and the shawl falls to the ground,unnoticed by either.
You know by now,reader,what comes next.

They kiss.

With passion and desire swirling in a vortex around them. Slow kisses,the kind that warms you up from the inside. The kind that you’d travel 3000 miles for. The kind shared by two people who care,truly.

They kiss.

Once.

Twice.

Thrice.

And it is perfect.

**************
Part 4 of the ‘ life is short’ series. ©Angrezikabutar