By Rose Bence

Your arms are the arms of the letter “H” as you wrap tightly about my waist, kissing my ear as I say “O.” Together we are two bumps in a bed piled high in warmth, sheets, safety, and then there’s you. Like coffee in the morning, your eyes sink into mine, asking me if I’m alright and I answer “M.” There we lay, legs wrapped in legs, face to chest as you become the personal heater every girl needs in winter. Heat seeping in like a blush when you say I’m yours and then you ask for more with a darkening of your eyes that leave me gasping, questioning with the letter “E.” Evermore.


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