Welcome To The Lips and Hips Parade

Stumbling through haunted houses, paying only attention to the way my blood seems to get confused when we hold hands. Admiring the way our veins align. So perfect. I like the air best when it is circulated through your body first. The faint smell that is underneath your ear and between your shoulders makes me feel like this could last.

Any darkness in my heart just fell and went idle, defenses down. Here's to proving them all wrong. Remind them that the underdogs will always be the ones with the bite. I don't even care where I am geographically as long as I'm located somewhere in your mind.

Tonight regret is resting itself on the tip of the tongue of another, and love is laying somewhere between that sick feeling in the pit of your stomach and the confessional booth you'll face on your wedding day. Relax babe, this is not a cheaper version of passion. That would lead to meaningless scratches on bedposts and backbones.

This is the truest form of passion. The Casablanca kind. The type that made Rick tell a lie and let Ilsa return to Victor.

LongHaulLover