Teach. Sing. Write. Fly. Dive. Rave.

I'm not the girl your mom warned you about, her imagination was never this good.

Work for pasta and ice cream and also makes pasta and ice cream work for me.

I miss the thought of your fingers pressed against my skin
Your face reddened from excitement
Your eyes glues onto my curves

I miss pulling you into an embrace
I miss you ravishing

I miss your smile, your smell your constant breath.
The feeling of security
The assurance.

I stare at a distant object.
Often it is you on my mind.
Crawling into my heart, in and out each time.
Tempting me, angering me. Making me miss you..

And i know its jus a thought.
I must love you really alot.