her possible mouth (suchcartography) wrote,
her possible mouth

  • Mood:
It had clearly rained when I woke up this morning; everything I could see was littered with leftover raindrops. I got into my car and all I could smell was you. The air wasn't damp and humid and threatening more rain - it felt just like your palm cradling my face, warm and sweet. The blankets in my backseat smell like your house.

It poured all morning, water falling in sheets. I thought about what it would be like to stand underneath it all, my head on your collarbone, your cheek pressed against the crown of my head, the two of us, spinning slow, deliberate circles under the torrents. It could be our own midmorning waltz, orchestrated by thundercrashes. Would you dance with me, love? In the rain?

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