Lips against lips.

"And all I do is miss you, and the way it used to be. And all I do is keep the beat, the bad company. And all I do is kiss you through the bars of a rhyme. Juliet, I'd do the stars with you anytime."

It is sad to crave a kiss. To crave that simple action, the soft brushing of one's lips against mine. That pure feeling that comes right before the kiss, when two people coordinate and move to do one same action, when that look in someone's eyes can tell you exactly how to move, and where to move and when to move.

It's funny also, that I'm thinking in such silly ways. A kiss or the lack of it can't really make a difference, right? That's what one would say, right?

I feel sort of the same when I wake up after napping. I have a crave for something sweet and no matter how long I wait, I'll crave the sweet for hours until I finally get it.

Maybe it's the same... sort of. 

It's like I've just been awaken from this 'feeling' napping and now I'm craving the sweet part of it. The brushing, the bitting, the laughter, the blushing, the smiling and the uncontrollable continuity of kissing. One kiss that starts an eternity of kissing. I crave the single glance that comes right after a great kiss. I crave the knowing smile that people share. I crave that.

Or maybe I'm just beeing girly and shit.

-LorettaRm