I just want to be kissed. I want to be held at the waist and split open by someone’s mouth until I am no longer whole. I want to forget where I am, why I am there, how I got there in the first place. I want to be pressed up against walls, pinned against floors, and reclined against counters.
A good kiss is a performance—an event.
Nothing matches the way your blood pulses under your skin when someone leans in to kiss you—reaches for your heart with their mouth—and holds on to your body like they are a blind man and you are a slippery rock face. Nothing compares to someone who pays attention to how you kiss them and knows that just like love—we all kiss the way we want to be kissed.
A good kiss has its own area code.
Its own continent.
Its own fucking galaxy.
I wanted to be where nobody I knew could ever come.Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar
Each affects the other, and the other affects the next, and the world is full of stories, but the stories are all one.― Mitch Albom