Monday, February 21, 2011


There is a hum of three friendly voices from the front seat of his volvo. Sounds like my favorite socks feel. 
you're in the backseat- so am i. 
 The moon is high and full. Looks like my favorite stilletoes feel.
Your breathing rises-and mine falls. Your eyes are closed- mine are opened. You press grey cotton against skin that's mine. 
It's so comfortable. 
And your hand is on my hand. And my heart is on your sleeve. 
We're in the backseat of his volvo, learning to be effortless.