We are made of passion. We are made of the
half-lid glance out of the eyes glazed over. We are the long sigh when the
weight of one rests on the chest of the other after the exhaustion of intimacy
collapses arms. We are the foreheads slowly touching and the shaking arms
cradling and the quiet reach of a strong hand to bring lips closer and kisses
deeper and whispers sweeter. We are the emotion that has never fit inside
either of us and never will.
We are the crumpled sheets and pillows
fallen to the floor.
The hair disheveled and the out-paced
breath and the quivering skin that follows.
We are the passion.
~ Tyler Knott Gregson
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