Bodies laced and souls intertwined, their head peaceful on your chest, the air thick of oxytocin soothing your lungs
Crisp and loamy fragrance sedating your steps, the chirping gentle on your ears
Bedroom door creaking at dawn, a light mass burrowing between still dreaming bodies
Sweet ginger stuffing the air, on your feet clonking carrots, arms locking around your waist, chest tight against your back, the warmth of their lips on your neck
Tiny fingers weaving cotton around the tree and down the bunny hole
Steam raining, tension melting down the drain
Vibrantly crowned stems, yellow powdered bumble on duty
About the Creator
Andie Emerson
Queer. Awkward. An anxious wreck, but firm believer in self-work.
Authenticity & progress over illusion & perfectionism.
Makes a living working in home improvement.
C
Keep reading
More stories from Andie Emerson and writers in Poets and other communities.
I am enough
I am right here. Please pay attention to me and stop looking at your phone. A mass of snowy warmth is curled up on my laps, humming to the lethargic strokes of my palm. My body stretched half on the sofa and half on the coffee table, my eyes lazy on the small screen.
By Andie Emerson8 months ago in Poets
Mama’s Boy
I’ve been a fiancé for four years and three months. We’ve been together for six and a half years total, and we have a two-month-old son together. I can’t help but think that we’ll never get married. We haven’t even decided on a wedding date. When I bring it up, he tries to escape the room as if he’s late for something more important.
By Real Poetic6 days ago in Chapters
Comments (1)
Great work!