“... and he's kissing me and I'm oxygen and he's dying to breathe.”
“My face is in his hands and my lips are at his lips and he's kissing me and I'm oxygen and he's dying to breathe.”
“I'm oxygen and he's dying to breathe.”
“Kissed me like he was a man starving for oxygen and I was the only air he needed to breathe.”
“He kissed me desperately, like a drowning man and I was his oxygen.”
“I feel as though I'm not breathing when I'm out of his presence. He's the oxygen in my air, the sun in my universe, the staff of my life. —Jane Gardiner”