|You found me in my confessional.
||[Nov. 16th, 2016|01:22 am]
The Beginning of a Bedtime Story |
[Alt: A Short Bedtime Story]
The scent of your skin is still on my hair,
(aged paper, earth, smoke, lavender, and longing)
catching me off guard in moments
just as you do
just as you have.
I could not have expected you, but like the inevitability of nightfall
I open eagerly, fearfully, at your touch.
Of course these desires give me concern -
how could you map the way under my skin so quickly unguided?
What meticulously concocted dark designs
carried you through my labyrinth
the winsome October mist,
the Spanish moss overhead,
and in an hour or so
you were through,
and I found myself