couldhavebeenqueen said: (that was a no-makeup selfie, thought you'd be pleased to know)
You are absolutely perfect either way. <3
I love the marks that a woman’s clothes leave on her body. I love the red indents and the proof of a long day before she even opens her mouth.
Tight socks circumventing ankle bones. A watch cutting a bit too tightly around a pulse. The alluringly simple bra straps; wire pressing up into the impossibly soft undersides of breasts; the cryptic clasp nestled between shoulder blades. The imprint of lace and elastic on the taut tender tendon of the inner thigh. The geography of jeans around the hips and trailing along the legs like railroad tracks. The line on her cheek from when she fell asleep on the bus home.
I love the luxurious sigh when it all puddles to the floor, shedding this artificial skin. Remnants of weariness leave whispers on the body.
And after all she has been through, she still comes to me and allows me to trace these whispers with my fingertips, eyes, lips. She doesn’t cover herself and doesn’t hide and lets me in.
We leave the lights on. Exhale (l.e.a.p.)
thelemicgnostic said: Speaking of LDR with two anniversaries, when we met the first time it was at Logan International Airport in Boston. I walked through the doors and suddenly had a very excited 5'3" girlfriend in my arms. 20 hours of travelling and I could still carry her and the suitcase to the taxi rank.