Regal
Rain dances along the gravel outside the plastered window, dulling the blade of sunlight that cuts through the blinds and rests upon the body of my lover.
The Curve Of Breasts, The Blade Of Purity
Her caress is a breath. It is mist brushing along the surface of a stream.
I Need You To Say It
Before the coil of worry could take root within my spinal cord, her lips met mine.