Seven Eleven

Intricately woven man-made fibers are dusted with what remains of a night, and some of a day, of taking it slow. The scent he doesn't know he has is left on my silk pillowcases as I retrace the last day's bliss. Hours of talking nonsense and piles of sent and received kisses stack up to give me an amazing view of what I have and what I've done to get it. And shit, do I feel lucky.

I can't say I'm fulfilled just yet. I mean, there's definitely some magic working its way into the relationship, but we've still got all the details to hammer out. But what I think the best part is: We've got lots of time to work on those details. :D

"Your brand new lover's not like other guys. He's the one that turns you on but God knows why... Your brand new lover's not like other guys. He's not ordinary but could you tell me why?"