*
Krishna tells me he's never seen another handsome man like me. I would like to believe I'm somewhat capable of catching his interest. But Krishna is not even worthy of comparison.
Krishna. He now has a name. And my skin now has the taste of his fingers.
My skin felt his touch for the first time today. And the imprints of his fingers, of his palm, are now etched onto my skin, like emblems and tattoos that call out to him.
The pale hue of my skin, as it touched with his, singed with delight, the dark hues of his skin slowly seeping through, holding onto my heart.
He felt brilliant, Poppy.
~*~
I hope none of you read 'singed' as a past tense mistake of 'sing', since here it's actually the past tense of 'singe'.
~*~