Posted:
9 ft??!! 😲 Wow beautiful!!
Chellam !! 🤗
You are already asleep.
I lower myself in next to you,
My skin slightly numb
With the restraint of habits,
The patina of self,
The black frost of outsideness, so that
Even unclothed,
It is a resilient chilly hardness,
A superficially malleable,
Dead rubbery texture.
You are in a mound of bedclothes..
Meanwhile and slowly
I feel as if it is
My own warmth surfacing
Or the ferment of your whole body
That in darkness beneath the cover
Is stealing
Bit by bit to break down that chill.
...
...
(Irrelevant portions edited.)
Originally posted by: karkuzhali
Drawing her limbs out in a genteel stretch, Heera left the comfort of her silken bolster and sheets, her eyes welcoming the light that the new morning had to offer. It was a beautiful December morning, the first day of the coldest months. And through the large open windows across her room, it was evident that fog had wrapped itself around the green tips of the hillocks like magician's incense. Of course, the lingering woody smell of burnt firewood from the fireplace only added to the effects.With a sleepy smile, she rubbed down the goose bumps that'd climbed up the exposed skin on her hands. The spectacle had sent a cold shiver down her spine and had yet given rise to a warm fuzzy feeling within - both, at the same time 'How could it be?' she wondered, her eyelashes coming down.Till she sensed a movement on the sheets. A pair of bare arms soon came up from behind, taking her in the refuge of their warmth.She got her answer.Opening her eyes halfway, she threw him a sleepy gaze over her shoulder. 'I'm home...'o o o o"Touch": Poem by Thom Gunn.You are already asleep.
I lower myself in next to you,
My skin slightly numb
With the restraint of habits,
The patina of self,
The black frost of outsideness, so that
Even unclothed,
It is a resilient chilly hardness,
A superficially malleable,
Dead rubbery texture.
You are in a mound of bedclothes..
Meanwhile and slowly
I feel as if it is
My own warmth surfacing
Or the ferment of your whole body
That in darkness beneath the coverIs stealing
Bit by bit to break down that chill....
...
(Irrelevant portions edited.)
KK.
🤣See what you do to others!! 😉😆 You got a taste of your own magic on all of us!! 😆 How we feel reading your story!!
Word Count: 1
Bond di... All the very best for Today's exam🤗. We know you'll nail your this assignment too... 😎Come back cookly cookly... Baig Sahib is waiting 😉😆
LashyThanks for giving us that little bit of a special moment between our leads. 🤗While mixing the next batch in the bowl you have allowed us a taste of the batter. Loved it.👍🏼Also thanks for appreciating the poem. !!
All the junk emails!! 2 from match.com!! 🤔 Really??? Get me an AMK and I will consider joining match.com!! Right now, this instant!! 😉🤣
Word Count: 0
Originally posted by: karkuzhali
Drawing her limbs out in a genteel stretch, Heera left the comfort of her silken bolster and sheets, her eyes welcoming the light that the new morning had to offer. It was a beautiful December morning, the first day of the coldest months. And through the large open windows across her room, it was evident that fog had wrapped itself around the green tips of the hillocks like magician's incense. Of course, the lingering woody smell of burnt firewood from the fireplace only added to the effects.With a sleepy smile, she rubbed down the goose bumps that'd climbed up the exposed skin on her hands. The spectacle had sent a cold shiver down her spine and had yet given rise to a warm fuzzy feeling within - both, at the same time 'How could it be?' she wondered, her eyelashes coming down.Till she sensed a movement on the sheets. A pair of bare arms soon came up from behind, taking her in the refuge of their warmth.She got her answer.Opening her eyes halfway, she threw him a sleepy gaze over her shoulder. 'I'm home...'o o o o"Touch": Poem by Thom Gunn.You are already asleep.
I lower myself in next to you,
My skin slightly numb
With the restraint of habits,
The patina of self,
The black frost of outsideness, so that
Even unclothed,
It is a resilient chilly hardness,
A superficially malleable,
Dead rubbery texture.
You are in a mound of bedclothes..
Meanwhile and slowly
I feel as if it is
My own warmth surfacing
Or the ferment of your whole body
That in darkness beneath the coverIs stealing
Bit by bit to break down that chill....
...
(Irrelevant portions edited.)
KK.
Irrelevant portions edited - It's Periamma's censor. 😉😆
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