My blood red fingertips, rosed cheeks and bare lips spy an object of attraction that all would like to feel. It’s a rare occurrence to spark temporary interest to a being that is unmovable.
Warm is the feeling that is trapped somewhere in between liking and lusting, crushing is the feeling.
I will wait for the moment to pass then attempt to acknowledge the reason my mind has indulged in the temporary halt.
Easy is it to fall for the typical but not the realistic.
I like the face, intrigued the mind Crushing is the feeling. I like the feeling… however short lived it is.