A Response to My Creative Drought

Bottom lip restrained with your teeth, chills running throughout as the light drifting across your skin with my hands remind you that excitement is but a feeling, I am here with you. For you. Hands clasped, fingers grasped ever so firmly that there is no room for condensation, only heat. Words roll over the sheets, gently and slow, caressing the moment like the glisten of your skin.

The heavy breathing bearable for seconds at a time, heart fluttering and forehead beading as the sighs fill the air with compassion and care carrying across the times as quickly as it filled the dark space surrounding us. Orange hues creep through the blinds, indirectly shading what few shadows still creeping around the room, scurrying into the floorboards because they’ve got no place in the beauty of life that now lives within me.


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