35/F/Ireland Closet Writer of Stuff. Lover of Photography. Instigator of Nonsense. You'll find me on Instagram... a.mcqwrites 105 followers / 2.6k words
Often, in mornings, I wake by your side. A magnetic field pulses from your core; summoning beats from my heart in its sleepy haze. Mesmerised, I fold into you, pulled to the right;
Nudged onto my side, by blood rushing to be close to you.
A meandering mist leaks from your barely parted lips. I am in awe at the slow motion spectre. If only my open mouth could catch it, perhaps it wouldn't haunt me so...
You take my favorite breath from me. The one I draw through sweet smelling hair, splayed on fresh linen; when the curve of my arm and the crease of your neck agree.
Your leeward left lays steeped in shadows, as a perfect line flickers outlining your silhouette. Incandescent light makes porcelain of your skin. Its honest touch embraces you with artificial moonbeams, airbrushed and pale. I watch your chest rise, as you inhale the atmosphere you have created with your presence.