I want to write more about love But I realise I don't know what love is
I miss the way you look when you are staring at something you love The awe in your eyes The gentle curve of an alomst-smile on your lips Your brow smooth, worryless. Me: Sally You: Jack I miss your gentle touch The way you gather me up in your arms... Me: a dandelion seed You:… Continue reading Yet…
She jumped into the passenger seat, never looking away from his dark eyes. She might have to keep them. She had a jar that would suit them perfectly.
A blog post where I ramble about finding new ink slingers and word smiths to stalk