It is hot under the sheets
Not like how they make it out to be
I almost attempt to free a limb from imprisonment
Sandwiched between skin and sheet and cotton
Or just more skin and skin
But I dare not do so
I dare not wake the one lulled to a slumber
By the ticking of the wall clock and the tempo of my heart
and the gentle hum of requited love
3 comments:
This is so beautiful, my insides feel like melted butter upon a toasty bun.
Awww thank you :') I love buttered toast that's for sure!
You will love my buttered toast. ;)
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