Have you ever lost someone you love and wanted one more conversation, one more chance to make up for the time when you thought they would be here forever? If so, then you know you can go your whole life collecting days, and none will outweigh the one you wish you had back.
I know now that we never get over great losses; we absorb them, and they carve us into different, often kinder, creatures. …We tell the story to get them back, to capture the traces of footfalls through the snow.
Do not come near me unless you are prepared for the kind of love that leaves notches on your bones. I have no interest in being your experiment in seduction, your untouched muse, your unfinished business or your bucket list fuck.
SHOT BY ANTONIO ANDRADE
Tired, but never too tired to reach out, to seek a touch, to cross air in search of the tiniest movement. Tired perhaps of everything that stands in between the tips of my fingers and you, the space between skin and skin, the brush of surface, of fingerprint on goosebump.
Tired of waiting for the space between my hand and your skin, your essence, to be removed, tired of waiting to feel your pulse, where my fingers and your heat meet and mingle, where grasp begets groan and pinch seduces and waits for a moan, where fingers, my fingers hold you on the edge, the ledge before falling until you do and I start over again. Tired but never tired of showing you exactly how this is done, my way.
Tired perhaps, but never tired of touching you.
'Tired' by photographer Weichuan Liu.