bodys by car seat headrest

The bones in his shoulders. I couldn't describe the bones in his shoulders. They described themselves. Not alone, with the help of the flesh and then the skin. To make his shoulders. Muscles flex as he has me pinned down to the bed. I can feel my heart in my throat. We're friends, we're friends, but his shoulders coax me into contemplation. They were so pretty. They told a story of their own. They painted their own picture. I wanted to sit up and kiss them.