The calluses on her hands remind me she is far from smooth
A petite little thing with a rough body.
But by the way her fingers curl around the palm of my hand
It feels as if our skin is porcelain.
Gentle and breakable
Like the tiniest fall will rip us apart.
I love all her scars and bruises
Just as much as the freckles that dust across her limbs.
She is encompassed in muscle that makes her body into defined shapes
But her hips still curve as a resting place for my fingertips.
My girl is anything but soft
But holy shit, is she one tender bitch.