||[Sep. 1st, 2006|09:17 pm]
Coffee Shop Scribbles
|||||I'm Not that Girl||]|
Cold sweat, Warm breath
Trickle across skin in duel sensations that boggle the nerves.
spine Tingles, hair Prickles
A discomfort that becomes all to comfortable in the late hours.
Salty lips, Sweet contact
Keep the body intrigued and interactive.
Finally encompassing the same territory.
Equally present and utterly undistinguishable.
But the brain is turned to mush,
and the thoughts of these oxymoronic feelings fade away with
every passing second
brush of lips
and melting touch you feel.
Then the realization:
At night there are no senses.