In your kitchen

When you wrapped me

Tightly in your arms

Lips on my hair

No light or air

Between us

I. LIVE. AGAIN.

8.30am, one Sunday morning in December

Enter your comment here...

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

Email (required) (Address never made public)

Name (required)

Website

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. ( Log Out / Change )

You are commenting using your Twitter account. ( Log Out / Change )

You are commenting using your Facebook account. ( Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: