Her fingers, they're entagled in my hair. Her lips, they gently carress mine, Leaving her taste lingering until later once she's gone. Her breath, inhaling and exhaling at all different speeds. And her heart thumping to a thousand rythms. Her body, comfortably framing mine. Her hands wander my body with no hesitation whatsoever. Any knowledge of how my appearance barely matches who I am has seemed to have been forgotten; If not, remembered and not cared about.