NaNoWriMo
DistractedMore later, gotta do some work.
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MovementTwilight and his hands held mineMovement
as we danced, feet jiving
on the linoleum floor, small heels tapp-a-tapping and breathing given up
for the joy of the storm.
Moonlight and his hands clutched mine as we moved, lips touching on the impassioned sheets.
Skin on skin and red heart on
joyful heart
as we made that trusting leap.
Daylight and his hands touched mine, as we lay, still panting,
in the bath of the dawn. Smile at the sun and breathe clear air, then rise,
my love, to face the day reborn.
by ~HeavensXGames
My HomePre-fab, built late 1940s, cheap: homes for the homeless from the the bombs that should have brought down Portsmouth. You weren't there when the fires, roaring,My Home
turned the empty countryside into a blazing city at night.
Later, you claimed a family to call your own and shelter from the world, those who would call you home. Who needed double-glazing when the summers were still warm and duffle coats still held value when snow lay it's cold body around you. You used to court the elements, standing firm in the wind and proud when the sun made dazzling appearance.
by ~HeavensXGames
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An Irishman has an abiding sense of tragedy that sustains him through temporary bouts of joy.
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Most gods throw dice, but Fate plays chess, and you don't find out til too late that he's been playing with two queens all along.
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