It Could Be

Friday, August 11, 2017 Comments Off

It was: rainy breezy afternoon, messy charcoal linen bedsheet, music softly playing from the record player, lacy panties under worn undershirt.

It was: skin pressed on skin, sighing in contentment was the norm here, vulnerability was treated with amity, diligently rememorizing every expanse with kindness and zero objectivity.

It was: late breakfast with poached eggs on toasts, holding a body whose eyes were the colour of black tea steeped for too long, greedily devouring each others' fear.

It was: unscheduled visit from the neighbor carrying extra apple pie, ignored emails and messages, competitive board game matches, drinking honeyed tea from floral teacup sets.

It was: heating up last night food, arguing over fictional characters, cleaning up the bathroom with lemon-scented supply.

It was: impossibility, rearranged.

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