here first. until we are there.

voices in my head

i keep hearing someone saying, “write, ning. just write.” in this most alluring voice. a soft caress of a voice, one that wakes you up by touch more than by sound —- soft lips on a sleepy cheek.
but i keep saying there’s nothing to write about. save for the fact that i keep getting palpitations. i don’t know why. there’s no one around to make my heart race, or if there was, their scent isn’t even in the room anymore. i do remember how eyes just meet and stay there, and how a smile does play on your lips the way a taste just sneaks up on you before you go into a state of recognition.
i thought pleasure was ultimate, but really knowing… familiarity is even better. i know your smell, i know your taste, i know the way you will touch me.


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