storm and want
The artillery of thunder on top of us. Petrichor bursting in the window. You tilting your head, and my mouth exploding a shiver in you, as lips, teeth, tongue land on your neck. Your salt is the lightning that zaps me, jaw to spine.
The artillery of thunder on top of us. Petrichor bursting in the window. You tilting your head, and my mouth exploding a shiver in you, as lips, teeth, tongue land on your neck. Your salt is the lightning that zaps me, jaw to spine.