No backbone on the shoreline, the Sadeian women are at rest

December 13, 2016

fog

Diary 13th December

Last night, strange dreams – almost fever dreams. Unsettling; unpleasant. The night before that, I dreamt I was in a dense forest. The place was unknown to me, and yet I seemed to know which path to follow but without any idea of my final destination. Despite this I remained still, quiet, calm. Now, I sit at my desk and watch the fog gathering across the lane in the darkness: an opaque obscurity about the hedgerows. It is cold outside. It all seems strangely threatening to me.

And my loves, sleek and smooth, a pair of subtly scented shadows under the bedclothes in the next room, sleep through the velvet night, in gentle oblivion. Which is as it should be.

Ah, come, whisper me some more dreams, will you? Dreams of mistletoe kisses and sensual mouths; wild cascades of gleaming hair, and the closeness of made-to-sin-bodies.

#

Storm birds die in the depths of her eyes!

Oh, when she is angry, she is intimidating! But still so very beautiful…

   #

Unlucky thirteen?

We made love the first time on the thirteenth. I passed my driving test on the thirteenth. I left school, unofficially, on the thirteenth…The luckiest number, ever, IMO!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: