Hands moving over bodies, touching places for the first time physically, but long dreamed. His fingers through her hair, her hands on his back, neck, ...rms, caressing. They broke the kiss and looked again. There was no room, no other world. Just them. Everything around them blurred. No words needed to be spoken. She reached for his chest, and started to unbutton his shirt. Her hands touched his skin, the gentle hairs, and ran her fingers over his nipples. He breathed in sharply, seeing this. Probably because both are not exactly large substantial entities of lasting duration, they're both composed of huge amounts of tiny groups of things. That's one reason why I've never been able to find my mother's grave. I could be standing on top of her, but the soil above her has far too little character to be the slightest bit self-aware enough to hold impressions. Dirt and snow are far too impermanent to record anything.Now with my hands for the first time up against the side of their. More

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