Today's OneWord: Complexion

The freckles in your complexion form constellations that burn when I touch them. Orion's belt is made of ice. It freezes the skin around my cuticles, to the point in which I am afraid of frostbite. There is a pattern to the contours of your face - the dips create valleys, the peaks your own personal mountains. There is no snow on those slopes, but they are smooth enough to let me descend without tumbling and bruising my knees.

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