Collarbones.
The elegance of this delicate scaffolding is remarkable. It is so eloquent. So exquisite. Graceful with a hint a softness.
A subtle beauty radiates from this bone structure.
What is this fondness I hold for it, this fixation I see of it, this obsession I cannot contain?
Call me strange, call me daring, openly call me eccentric.
However, this love is akin to a mother's love for a troublesome child. However much I adore them, I despise the fact that this feature may possibly be genetic, or perhaps only be present on females with a daintier figure. I despise myself for classing a feature on a female through some unchangeable predisposition.
Nevertheless, collarbones on a woman is like the icing on a cake. The cake is delicious regardless. But that extra zazzle comes from the collarbones.
No pictures, I do not want to cross the border over to being plain disturbing.
Freak.
I love you.
Ahahahah you and your collarbones...mirin ;)
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