Quotes About Intimacy

And in an instant I was pinned beneath him, which was not an entirely unpleasant experience once I realized it was Ranger. We were groin to groin, chest to chest, with his hands locked around my wrists. A moment passed while we did nothing but breathe.

Ranger raised my bruised and bloody wrist to his mouth and kissed it. "I'm sorry to have to do this to you, but there

The other hand wanted to wrap itself around Ranger's most perfect body part and not let go.

Morelli was an amazing lover, but Ranger was magic.

fault." Ranger tightened his hold on my neck.

How many people ask you to come share their life?

Although she was giddy with exhaustion, sleep was a lover who refused to be touched....

She kissed me on the mouth. Her mouth tasted like iced coffee and cardamom, and I was overwhelmed by the taste, her hot skin and the smell of unwashed hair. I was confused, but not unwilling. I would have let her do anything to me.

Love humiliates you, hatred cradles you.

He just wanted to stand close to her, touch her hair that was white as glacier milk...

They dream of men with gentle hands, eloquent with tenderness, fingers that brushed along a cheek, that outlined open lips in the lovers' braille. Hands that sculpted sweetness from sullen flesh, that traced breast and ignited hips, opening, kneading. Flesh becomes bread in the heat of those hands, braided and rising.

Someday I would have lovers and write a poem after

We have no home, she told me. I am your home.

You must find... someone mild and beautiful to be your lover. Someone who will tremble for your touch, offer you a marguerite by its long stem with his eyes lowered, someone whose fingers are a poem.

I cut a shred from my heart and dangled it on a homemade hook before her.

I wanted to put words between us, like spikes, to keep myself from falling into him like a girl without bones.

Talk to me. Look up, I thought. But she didn't, only stopped and picked a sprig of alyssum to smell the honey. I cut a shred from my heart and dangled it on a homemade hook before her.

Love humiliates you, but hatred cradles you.

So often when I was with her, she was unreachable. Whenever she turned her steep focus to me, I felt the warmth that flowers must feel when they bloom through the snow, under the first concentrated rays of the sun.

On the cover that leaned against the dirty couch, John and Yoko pressed together for a kiss they would never finish. People were always trashing Yoko Ono, blaming her for breaking up the Beatles, but Josie knew they were just jealous that John preferred Yoko to some bloated megaband. Nobody ever loved a lover. Because love was a private party, and nobody got on the guest list.

A correspondence is a kind of love affair.

I'm not gonna say something unless I really feel comfortable around you. Unless I feel like I know you, I'm not gonna really open up.

I don't know if you'll really get to know me unless you're close to me.

I couldn't care less about sex unless I meet someone who I think is wonderful.