Tuesday, March 3, 2009
you sit and ponder. i scream your name. The concavity of the unknown.
[tFS]
It's 4am,
I tip-toe down the corridor.
Unseen.
Almost unheard of.
Unforseen, swift movements of a silhouette.
Slow turnings of the tap.
Water trickles in impetuous motions.
I dry my hands and change.
In the distance my phone hums to the mild beat of the heat.
I let him know I'm home, safe.
Familiar sleek satin and coolness overwhelms me.
Vanilla scented undertones, musky.
Sheets spreaded and crinkled in darkness.
Mild against my skin.
A sigh of relief.
I'm home.
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natasha poly
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