It is the touch of a lover's arms that I so desperately crave, not the memories of a love no longer mine.

I would far prefer to be in someone's arms than jut in their head.

I would far prefer to be in someone's arms than just in their head.

My Christmas wish: To feel your arms around me, to have your lips on mine, and to hold you close one more time, while there's time.

It wasn't the sort of kiss I'd had with him before, hungry, wanting, desperate. It wasn't the sort of kiss I'd had with anyone before. This kiss was so soft that it was like a memory of a kiss, so careful on my lips that it was like someone running his fingers along them.

Touch has a memory. O say, love, say,
What can I do to kill it and be free?