Come morning….

Come morning, the heavy mist of yearning. She, alone, bound by thrashed blankets. There would be the remnants of a fire still shimmering from the wood stove. Her hair, thick, would be fanned across both pillows. The scent of his sweat and desire were captured in the feathers. Would she wake up with a smile, as she usually did, or would the moment turn when she realized she was as alone as he? The desire, though, roamed fiercely across the space between them.

Advertisements

4 thoughts on “Come morning….

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s