domingo, 17 de outubro de 2010

Coldest
It is cold tonight; the coldest it has been all year. The rain is playing its song against our bedroom window and your fingers are tapping along with their rhythm on my body. The world may be freezing over outside, but here, in our bedroom, we lay naked under the covers. You keep my body close to you and the body heat between us is enough to warm us through the night. Perhaps we won’t be getting much sleep, for your tapping fingers are tracing along every curve of my body. You can’t see my face, but I am sure you know that there is a smile sneaking up on me. Any arguments we had before bed are long forgotten and all I care about now is being here with you, under the covers, hiding from the rain. We’ll keep each other close, our hearts beating faster than the hardest rain, our bodies hotter than the brightest sun. We explore one another until the sun attempts to peak through the gloomy clouds in the morning. We may have gotten no sleep, but I feel more awake than I could ever feel, even with eight hours of sleep and a cup of coffee together. It is a cold, cold morning; the coldest it has been all year.

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