04.30.05

touch me now

I didn�t mind your sweat on my shoulder, because it meant your arm was there protecting me and my frail little bones were tickling you ever so gently. I could feel, every time you jumped, your muscles tensing. I liked it.
I liked too, the feeling of melting and the warmth of the seat and that feeling of impending death that, as a teenager, you stare at until it is forced to bat its eyes. We thought, yes, we are going to die. I can feel my stomach lurching. But we will die young and beautiful under the Florida sun.
There�s no room for pity in that.

shi-ou-sama at 11:23 a.m.

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