Saturday, March 9, 2024

He was all calloused hands and midnight poetry dripping with the promise of bitten sighs, stolen kisses and filthy words.

at

No comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)

Too busy to notice

I miss those mornings where the house was loud and alive. The chattering of my children; the arguing, the laughing, the hurriedness of tryin...

  • (no title)
    Sometimes I think about it, it’s a smell or food or a song that comes on. The ache in my heart is bittersweet. My throat closes up and tears...
  • (no title)
    A lot of people talk about fight or flight. And I guess flight was never an option, for me. I got way too much fight in me. There probably w...
  • All about the girlss!
    We owned the night last - last night belonged to the girls! So much fun! Friends I haven't seen in years. Dancing. Laughter. Drinks...