They say finger prints are secret messages and pathways to the soul;
especially on the intent of such a touch. A language; specific to those when shared.
It's a fact that I wish I never felt.
I can't help but remember your burning digits leaving their mark every time, the warm
rub of your calloused thumb moved along my own palm. Your messages meeting to mine as we examined. Shapes formed with those familiar tickles felt; a giggle shared as I could only stare at the way our fingers danced and intwined, careless as to who saw.
I saw something magnetic in our exchange, without true words provided. It didn't make sense at first, but I could drink your touch until my body couldn't take it anymore.
It was our own hidden language shared, words that I'll never forget like a mantra;
Words and tales I mutter as my own silent prayer.
I'll miss the sensation, your fingers always holding edged stories to tell; but I could follow them all day long. Remembering
them likes novels and passages.
I'll miss your hands, the way they settled roughly along my shy shoulders
a comfort that I'll always crave. A comfort I finally understood.
and that's the worst part this ending, because stories become
entries one could barely forget and in this case, it will be a
promise you never asked for.
I'll always hunger for your hands in the most sweetest way.
I'll always hunger for your embrace, sunk into your chambers.
And I'll always hunger for your stare, your green pools that kept my butterflies alive.
I'll never forget.
Always.
i think the funniest possible outcome of that scene in the barbie trailer where they're being finger printed is all the cops being like "hey what the fuck" because they dont have finger prints so the papers are just full of solid ink blots because they are made of plastic