The sun coats me briefly, accumulating on my skin, until it's lost again, the warmth dripping under shade's chill, leaving me damp and stiff as a grave.
Then your eyes drift to mine, and the warmth radiates deep within me, regardless of nature's cold shelter above me, defrosting my soul, melting me free.
Nov 14, 2014
Nov 14, 2014 at 12:56 AM UTC
The sun coats me briefly, accumulating on my skin, until it's lost again, the warmth dripping under shade's chill, leaving me damp and stiff as a grave.
Then your eyes drift to mine, and the warmth radiates deep within me, regardless of nature's cold shelter above me, defrosting my soul, melting me free.
The positive results of object writing.
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