SO GIVE ME JUST A LITTLE, BABY

JUST SOMETHING TO GET BY

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Goddammit, Magic Man.

It’s 4 am. I have to leave for work at 6:30. But you’re in my head and you’re in my veins. You’re thousands of miles away. You’re probably still working. I can picture your magic hands sculpting clay. One text from you and my world is spinning. The text I’ve been waiting a year for. You want to see me. I can’t sleep. Sleep is not an option at this point. All I can do is imagine the next time I’ll be in your arms, and the way my skin felt aflame when you touched me.

Filed under personal love distance lust insomnia his hands on my skin california dreaming