geniussmiddy

I look into his window that's icy, spiderwebbed by Autumn's touch. He is restless, haunted by yearning. Shifting endlessly on his lone bed, his blankets forgotten on the floor. I'm at the foot of his bed, standing. I run my fingernail up the baby soft sole of his foot and smile sweetly at his whimper. I draw my arms above my head and slowly rise to my toes. My long hair streams down my bowed back to caress the skin that arches there. I'm suspended above him. A curvy shape encassed in airy purple fabric, invading, set to conquer. I'm in his dreams now. That vibrant and bland world beyond consciousness. He's not alone anymore thoug