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Bare-footed in a field of corn. Crushed flowers beneath toes that taste of marzipan. It could be fantasy, or maybe yesterday. You in a dress with a waist that fits the shape of my hands. You with shaved legs so smooth it’s like kissing silk. Candles. Yasmine. Absinth. Let the water run down our pale faces and wash away our condition. No affliction, only temptation. No pain, only the shame of being afraid. On the kitchen floor. On a balcony facing the sun. We come together. We live forever in the merest of kisses. If you peel back the layers- if you see what needs to be seen- oh what a rush it would be.

A Journal for Damned Lovers on Amazon.co.uk

A Journal for Damned Lovers on Amazon.com

13 replies »

  1. The second I read ‘You in a dress with a waist that fits the shape of my hands’ Just wow…it is as if any sense I may have had beforehand is lost and I’m glad of it! haha! How you do the things you do is a mystery that I hope never lets me make any sense of it! As each time I comment to you I’m lost of any intellect and I can’t even care! Your writing sets me off and kicks my ass beautifully. I’m just in love with it! 😀

    • That’s one hell of a comment, and I’m overwhelmed by it. Thank you for being so kind by taking the time to comment. It means a great deal to me. I hope the words never cease for both of us- I hope they keep dancing until they break free of our grasp x

      • Yes once I feel it whatever ‘it’ might be chances are you are gonna hear about it haha! ‘I hope they keep dancing until they break free of our grasp’ can you imagine?!! Aahhh Big sigh! XO!

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