I can whisper my hello to curtains. please! stand still. I could not dream to dominate.Shit! he seized every crumpling I had, since last night. He owned me. I could breathe him next to the crippling sheets. Where is he now? i drummed the warmth to the side and invited the morning breeze within my search team.
There he is! sipping the anxiety, I withhold. he stares. Does he remember the last night like i do? pulling the chair next to him, I acclaimed to be best spy ever. Still, his glares are blank and his words skied, sided, finally banged to the blockade tree like on a middle of a ride. Get yourself a breakfast he flew away on his car keys. so, they say a man a superman, maybe.
I am not hungry. I am not sleepy as well. If i return to the bedroom, i could recollect and get my emotion upright. I want it slanted. what if it slides and dumps to dusty ground, i’ll waste the wasted energy to brush off. I wish i could fly away, so they say a woman a superwoman
His cup. I can still smell his breathe on the nape of the neck, aging the knees in kneeling prey. His wrinkled shirts, the last time i had seen yesterday mocked me in its lifeless sleeve.In between the cup and the shirt, i could notice a hope in envelope. If it was an old-fashioned letters: love letters. Hurriedly, i checked it into;