As he began to nibble on her earlobe, she curved her spine and let our a deep sigh. His hands traveled the length of her back and puller her close, her lips parted slightly as an electric charge touched her every fiber. With arms and legs entwined, she attached her body to his, while pulling him closer and closer, trying to blend in with his very skin. The dance, gyrating, pulsating, the movement of two in fight aspiring to the rhythm of one. Climbing, higher and higher, sweat that unites and conquers, he holds on to her as is about to cross the last barrier and let go of it all. Then arms, lips, bodies and pleasure lay knitted together for one last time.
Written as a way to give my own meaning to Julio Cortazar’s passage of Hopscotch during a workshop talking about author’s use of made-up words.