melissa

With grace and with teardrops she sighs,makes a move for the crushed velvet dresssitting in a pile at the foot of the bed.His cigarette smoke behind her curlsaround his face like a villain's mustachefrom her father's old cartoons.He was never a man she saw herself withand yet moments before she let herselfmoan in his arms, let his sweat hoverabove her and glue their chests together.

via *