His skin burned against mine, he was so warm. I gripped him tighter. We gasped in pleasure. Even after we had stopped moving together we couldn’t let each other go. I could feel his thumb caressing my back in a circular motion. I could feel soft wet kisses marking my neck. I was his. He was mine. I knew that we were already running late. I knew that I would have to detatch myself from his embrace at the airport. I knew we belonged to different, distant countries. But at this very moment, as we clung onto each other for dear life while sobs wracked our bodies, I couldn’t let go.
– Ermisenda Alvarez