lajeunefilleenfleur:

She smells so warm and soft in her pajamas, even from this far away. From the bar stool at her kitchen counter, you watch her scoop perfect crescents of strawberry ice cream into two matching bowls. She arranges each curl like a rose petal, nesting them tight and parallel.

The pink tip of her tongue peeks through her lips - flushed where she bites it in concentration.

You curl your toes around the foot ring of your stool. It’s summer, and though it’s finally dark out, the room feels sticky-hot, as if the oven were switched on. And you’re lightheaded all of a sudden - is it the heat? - and everything grows a little hazy, shivering with heat waves, except for that sliver of tongue, that pretty pink mouth, when she licks a fleck of ice cream from her fingertip.

I want to kiss you, you think, and something in you freezes.

But you brush the thought from your brow, wiping clean the film of sweat that has gathered there, and reach for the bowl she offers, smiling, to you.

***

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She smells so warm and soft in her pajamas

and everything grows a little hazy

except for that sliver of tongue

that pretty pink mouth

her hair is shellacked to her neck and temples

curls of lavender-scented steam rise

water soft for her

soft oily water you’ve slid over her skin

you let your gaze drift back to her open mouth as your fingers dig

she whimpers: her lips shiver with the sound

you watch her – her throat

her soft mouth – just there – until she opens her eyes

the room drowns with darkness

you are free to find her again by that warm-soft smell

and the glow of her skin

your lips brushing the soft patch that slopes into her breast

tonight, that soft place is bare where your lips press

bare and unbearably fragrant

eyes shut, you imagine darting your tongue out –

a tentative proboscis - and tasting just a mote of it

your heartbeat undulates

deep and strong as a seashell-ocean;

your ear pressed to Brittany’s shoulder counterpoints

with the undercurrent of her sleeping breath

she collects these beads of you, ardently,

and keeps them in perfect rows

she slides her tongue over the roof of her mouth

the way she does when she’s slipping something into place

you want to kiss her so badly it hurts

but even as you hover - a hummingbird - a little closer –

your thoughts translucent with wingbeat frenzy –

your breath catches

and you lose your nerve

her smile is strange and soft then

you hear the murmur of her breath grow chant-like

she seems to know what’s coming

and she softens

and the only sound in the room is a single light-quick heartbeat