Dear Lover, by Lori Jenessa Nelson - HTML preview

Dear Lover,

I remember you wore fabulous shoes, leather shoes, worn in, scuffed shoes that had life and had been lived in. And your voice sounded above my left ear like a whisper caught in the force of a wind. My eyes traveled twenty hands up your body, taking in the sight of that scuffed leather, black jeans hugging charismatic thighs, and I was smiling as my eyes grabbed onto the trim of your Cosby sweater. My eyes tiptoed up, up, past colors rudely dazzling, full lips, a golden nose stud, and your eyes–they glowed like star-topped Christmas trees. My breath stuck, your lungs heaved. And in that instant, we both breathed.