freshTouch

Tonight my mouth moans and calls for a candle to blow. One that tastes like the sea and flows like a river, on my lips. Thousands whirlpools drawn by restless fingers on my head. A fish that moves strong and imperious, like a salmon, but as smooth as a caress deep on my tongue. And, in the end, not to dive into the ocean, but just to feel the satisfying wave of someone else's summer on my face.