I regularly find myself sitting down to write only to pour out something I was so sure that I was over. I think of a friend of mine whose tag has a spiral in it. We always keep circling back to learn something new about the point where we were previously at. So I allow it to come out, on this loop around, and it’s often not until much later that I realize what I was supposed to learn from this trip. I accept the delay, though. It used to be that the moment it came back up I would start pushing back down. This is growth.
Chest
upper chest
soft
bare in the cold
remember your touch
always lotion
picturing your hand
my back
against a wall
behind the door
your lips
crush
my lips
touch
your stomach
laughter
frustration
limp, squeeze
poor grip
get on top
giggles
I hear my name
they stop
shaking
my legs
wrapped around you
my arms
pull you in
all of my senses
take you in
it all comes back
when the cold
touches my skin
always uncovered
upper chest
Much love, until next time.
Madeline May I... 