The Kiss(happybluetoes)

His hand trembled lightly as he reached out to brush the stray tendrils of

dark hair from her eyes, glistening with tears. Cupping her face gently, his eyes

searching their depths, the windows to the soul, a silent sob catches in her throat.

Their bodies, tense, jumbled nervousness.

Tipping his head into her, his warm lips tenderly meet hers, soft and full

in breathless anticipation parting slightly their tongues dance, entwining a will

of their own. The sob no longer silent escapes from its confines, shattering her

resolves, she buries her hand in his hair , tugging delicately, her other arm

encircles his waist and pulls him onto her, fitting his strong length against her,

welcoming the feel of her frailty, embracing her, feeling her heart pounding

against her breast, matching his own. Kissing him again, with an intense fever,

tender, giving, passionate. Relishing the solidness of his form in cohesion with

hers. Time however fleeting seems to stand still and the chaos of the world falls

away, only just momentarily, clinging to the craving want, and the pining need of

desire.

Sighing, she pulls away, breathing in gasps, gaining her composure, his eyes

yearning seeking the depths of hers, longing evident, and tears damp on her lashes,

tracing his face gathering a memory, closing her eyes briefly, taking a deep breath, caressing

his lips once again with her own. Resisting the urge of vulnerability,

without words adeptly she strides away. Reluctantly he touches his fingers to his

lips and watches her hips sway gracefully as she walks away .

For this was not a lovers first kiss, but their parting of paths, their last.