it's nighttime and all i can feel is my stomach lifting and falling with each breath. i can't see my skin but i know that my nipple would be patterned from leaning against the fabric of your jacket. it's pink and bumpy and occasionally it's darker after your touch. but i can't see it and i know it's there and would stand out in the sunlight that is coming tomorrow. an orchid that only unfolds when your finger is tapping it gently or pulling. but i can't see you and i know you're there pulling the covers softly as you turn over restless, again. everything comes in pairs and when you turn, i gently pull back hoping you'll know i'm here too John Timmons' Day 6, Susan Gibbs' Bernina, The Big Hearted Woman, Billie Willams' Her Father's Orchid, Amrita Mishra's Six.
Friday, May 27, 2011
7. all i can feel
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This is so real, so earthy and human, loving and sensual with no silly romanticism just pure human feeling. I see maturity not only in you, but in your writing, in your professional self.
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