Thursday, February 28, 2013

A Dream: in Yellow

I'm lying in bed and running my fingers over the curves of my partner's brow and cheek. I drink in his gaze as the sun creeps into our sheets. I bury my laugh in the crook of his shoulder and catch my smile against his neck. His stubble scratches my nose and he buries his face in my nest of hair. I am so lucky to share in this whispered intimacy. It doesn't need to be forever. It is enough that it is at all. 


No comments:

Post a Comment

The Heart Archives. All rights reserved. © Maira Gall.