“Here she is, my lion girl, spilled onto my bed like cream. Her chest is shaking, collarbone turned in, on the edge of tears. She is the loveliest thing, she is the end of all the others. We are waist-deep in one another and her eyes are unseeing, her hands are holding onto the air. She comes like cutting strings, all up then falling, I wrap my fingers around her hips like a whimper like a prayer that I can keep her.”— “She”, Josie
(via kleinerpuppenraeuber)
