[Touch;]

'...to come close to, or come into contact with something.

or something that produces a feeling of affection, gratitude, or sympathy...'
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Touching.

Feeling.

Acknowledging.

Yearning.

Returning.

Touching... to touch someone's hands, to grasp them, intertwine your fingers into theirs, to hold them, to play with them.

Touching... to gently let the ice cold tips of those freezing, yet soft fingertips caress ones face and hold it gently, bringing it warmth.

Touch... to let those ice cold fingertips dance along the warmth of your skin, moving in graceful and elegant strokes, shapes, just gently falling down the side of you and resting on you.

Touch, no, warmth... the owner of those ice cold fingertips, the hands, slowly making its way around you, and pulling you in the gentle, comforting, loving, and warm hug.

Warmth, love, affection, touch.

All combined into one small gesture, or movement. All packed into something with a big punch, but that punch was never intended to hurt, and nor will it ever, for it is not punch, but a spark.

A spark that lights up the ends of the strings connected to that firework, ready to be lit up and burst all over you, inside you, leaving you burning up, afraid, shy...

But that firework, that beautiful, small firework, that piece of art, moving around freely and bursting inside you... that firework is the outcome of all of the above combined.

An outcome so great, it leaves you yearning for more. But, are there enough fireworks, and enough sparks to light them up?

That, is the art of love. For when there is love, there is no limit. Those fireworks are created every moment, and those sparks are forever there within you, ready to set off the fireworks that lead you to a special moment. The fireworks that lead you forward, and blinds your senses.

The fire works that burst and lead you to a gentle, soft, and sweet kiss.

When ones lips brushes against another's, their breaths mingling like the smoke left from the fireworks from before, only ready for the bigger fireworks to begin bursting in the air, waiting for those soft lips to gently find its way, pressing against yours.

Closing those big, beautiful eyes and letting those lips gently touch yours is truly, the only best feeling in the world to ever exist.

The warmth, the affection, the emotions behind it, the fireworks bursting in the air, it's clouds fogging up your mind, sending you to a blissful state of relaxation and tranquility, sending your mind to a state of euphoria.

All of that in just one, simple, gentle kiss, a mere peck on the lips.

But, it only lasts for a short period of time. The warmth is there, but the sparks, the fireworks, they slowly start to disappear.

Not until you look down at your intertwined fingers, one hand fitting perfectly into the other, resting, while the other is around you, embracing you, not until you look back up into those eyes that hold the world, the moon, the stars, the galaxies, the eyes that hold your whole universe... not until you look deep into those eyes, and get lost within them, do you realize, that you're in love?

Then, that warmth, the fireworks, they spread all over your body, raising every hair on your body, and giving your heart the comfort and reassurance it needs.

Who knew that a single 'touch' of anything, could bring such warmth and fill your heart with love?

Who knew that such a small gesture could bring out the brightest smile you ever had in you?

That ice cold touch, raising all the hairs on your body and sending shivers down your spine as they rattle in place, who knew that such a touch could bring so much warmth?

Touch... it is something so thrilling and confusing, something so mind boggling in its own way... it's as if it were pure magic, and if it magic were true, it'd be through a simple 'touch'.

Oh, how lovely would it be to simply brush against that hand one day, and smile...

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💌

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