Your mind thinks of nothing. Body is relax, no impulse is set. Muscles are bind without any calcium to utilize further motion. Not even an inch of twitch can let move a part of a frame yet only ecstasy jolts from within your inner self.
Hands are on both sides, light as feather which cannot feel. The running lines of vein on the superficial skin directs your eye to leer on where it is heading. From the tip of your fingers, to the palms of your hand; from the wrist, to your arms; from your shoulder to your neck. Inch by inch, the hunger from the smooth tender skin tries to rip off this fragile thing by this lusty gentle eye.
The supple milky face rise from the moment. A touch of your lovely fingers lingers on the tip of the nose eases and gently rises on fluctuation. It slowly brushes the glamorous mask with a tenderness emotion lure with relish and care. Setting forth the emotion and some action in a wholly way draws the trust and respect to one’s self.
You are staring at a moment until your eyes cannot get enough on what is on front of you. Suddenly a voice said, “Hi baby, good-morning”, and smile, looking at you.
Just A Little Pieces of Me 