They said there is nothing to writing, just sitting at a typewriter and bleed. True. I sat multiple times thinking about you and typing, typing for hours. But no words of mine would make justice to your beauty. However, I decided to give it another try. If I close my eyes I can still feel your fingertips running around my hand and the soft scratch of your nails trying to reach their way up my palm searching for me to I’d hold your hand. My eyes would be totally distracted by our hands, together, that I would get lost in them. Then you’d gently touch my face and point it up, right in front of yours, and kiss me slowly, at first, turning into a warm passionate way of showing your love.