Gyroscope Review 16-4 - Page 52

IF YOU HADN’T CALLED BY JANE COLLINS I wouldn’t know your voice feels like sunlight, so warm. The sound spilled over my skin, I felt my cells settle in that light, all the particles of my self letting go and floating down toward the surface of your words. But you won’t be here for weeks, so I can’t meet your eyes, can’t touch your skin. I know desire is suffering, but I want this longing. I’ll wait for you, tasting this silence.
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