Cathy Earnshaw

Hair that flies wildly in the wind, wrapping my face like your love to my pulsating heart.
The blood beats through my body, ready to burst. As I clutch at his skin, I feel his chest rise and fall, he has to be mine. Lying out on the moors exposed to everything God could ever give. The damp ground and the ice cold winds that sting our skin. The blades of grass tickle my body as we wallow and writhe in each others presence. The smell of his body intoxicating my mind, drawing the sky closer until there is just us, feeling our way in the dark, touching and loving every crease, every droplet of sweat, every breath. Soul consuming, making me scream until my lungs give out. I want to rip every vein from my body and have him take it as his own so that our blood can move together, so that our hearts can beat as one in time to the rhythmical breath escaping from our bodies, flying free when moments of ecstasy are hit, rising and falling as one.