mahnahvokala

The first time is a lot like the last time, and when you see her walk in, all pomp and swagger and a smile that could kill stronger women than you, you tell yourself you’ll be fine as long as you walk away now. You don’t. She doesn’t speak to you, not at first, but you dream of her like you’ve never dreamed of home, dream up the way that her mouth could feel on your throat, and the noises she could sing for you. The second time you see her she ends up spread open in front of you. You’re never sure how it happens but her body looks like it wants you and the way you fit together feels catastrophic. She smiles at