It’s a wait. To embrace you. Lay eyes. Hear you. But it’s overwhelmingly and surprisingly soul-filling, knowing that you are there. Present with every breath I take, and hidden within. It’s a wait. To lay hands. To caress. But it’s been a wait. And you, at the end of it, are the greatest gift.
Originally posted on THE EDITOR'S JOURNAL:
Let’s say a guy named Fred is attracted to a woman named Martha. He asks her out to a movie; she accepts; they have a pretty good time. A few nights later he asks her out to dinner, and again they enjoy themselves. They continue to see each…
I have missed writing. So much more than I ever thought possible. I haven’t laid a pen to paper since Attika passed away. No wonder I felt that I had lost a bit of myself during the last two years. I was moving my stuff today as I prepare for my post-graduate life, and I found […]
Word-Experimentalist
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