My touch will ask your bodyto impart all of its secrets,not just to answer the achethat simmers between parting legs.I want my fingertips to roamand map every scar that I find,trace the cicatrices in a way that tells you how my skin will always be starving for the feel of yours.To go beneath your wounds,the deepest ones where no tissuehas been woven isveçbahis to heal yet,the pains that have absolutelynothing to do with blood.So my touch will soon speak,first to the shape of your bare body,a sensuous geography throbbingwith its endless stories and secrets,not just the simmering ache belowthat opens up to be answered,that is driven isveçbahis giriş to be understood.But I want my fingertips to travel,to seek the depths beyond skinand map every intricacy unearthed,to trace both the glowing auraand the cicatrices in a way that tellshow my essence screams to be foreverbraided with the marrow of your own.To isveçbahis yeni giriş go far beneath the wounds,beneath the deepest terra whereno healing tissue can be woven,the pains that have absolutely nothing to do with our earthly marks.And my touch will speak this and more,not merely answering the fiery achethat is driven to be understood,to be charted with cicatrices in a waythat makes our cells tie completelytogether as if we’re a living thread.To go far beneath all tissuewhen gripped in a trembling releaseto truly tell you how my being will always long to be merged with yours.