It was the molding of skin on skin,
wings tucked away as if hidden
It was the flaming up of two bodies,
somehow tied together
in longing
Her hair locks with his
as she leans into the pale body holding her tight,
tight in love,
despite every old argument
despite how young they both were
She smiles
against lips eager to hold hers close
He listens
and that silent air of his
reminds her of their shared history,
of arguments,
of relenting control,
of loneliness,
and she breathes in,
breathes in every single last one of them
with him in her arms.
