her skin the color of honey sugary sweet eyes like long-forgotten pathways to a place I can only just recall her hair in twists and her hands touching it fondling it tucking it back behind her ears as she rubs her legs against each other crosses them at the thighs dreaming dreaming of my hands on her back on her body touching rubbing feeling measuring and that smile her smile cocked at the ends like she knows of course she knows her hands touching and grazing and moving along the tabletop over her papers and things she looks up to me then down smiling big beautiful knowing then looks up at me again with a glance that doesn't need words to elaborate and it shakes me cold shakes me to my core her eyes her lips her curves her skin the color of honey
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About a girl I saw once, in the library. We smiled at one another, but nothing happened beyond that. Wishful thinking, perhaps...
Nice. Especially that after i read the piece, i noticed the title and had a laugh!
Thanks. :)
Favourited. Remorseless, breathless rhythm, conveying the sense of powerless before his attraction to her.
The flow is fantastically undeniable thus punctuation is not necessary
Ah, yes. The ones you do and the ones you don't. You may forget the former, but you NEVER forget the latter.
I like this stream of consciousness writing it suits this subject of love unvisited perfectly
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It always seems to be, with me, at least, the ones "you don't."
Great moment beautifully captured: the whole thing unfolding in two minds. And like Sara T, loved the play of the piece against the title! Love the lack of punctuation, because isn't that how the rush of feelings and looks and desires plays out? There are no periods or commas or semi-colons with the rush of desire.
Thank you :)
Fantastic title. This piece reminded me of the intensity of Justine Levy, rampling, French-inspired. Intense.
Thanks, Isabell. :)
I wouldn't say nothing happened. Your piece here proves something happened.I thought it played out rather nicely.
Thanks, Darryl.