||at last||

have you ever stood face-to-face with someone where the space between your lips, cheeks or even nose has a life of its own?

where it speaks the most intimate whispers with nothing more than their breath on the surface of your skin?

when the conversation consists of gentle sweeping movements, as your heads do a dance caressing each other with the air between your faces?

at most, your foreheads lean upon one another as if to say, "i adore you"?

"tingles"...

...is all you feel...but it's ok, because with every brush of his cheek he tells you that he felt it too...

At Last - Etta James