Whispers

 
 

traces

He leaves traces of himself on her skin.

She feels the places his hands have been, where his breath has traced warm paths across her face and neck, where his caresses have burned her. They stay with her for hours on end, even when the night is over and both have settled in to sleep.

He has always been so tactile and she wakes to his touch, his warm embrace, their tangled dreams and hair and breath. She wonders if they could ever be closer.

She rises in the morning, goes about her day, but still she feels the traces.
 


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