the ship is sailing

There should be more. More of something. Of whatever makes you all lush and appeased. 

Like someone touching you while you fall asleep, like a lullaby sung to you with a voice that echoes of forest walks and fire and home. There should be an eye cajoling your collarbone, a mouth resting on your hips.
There should be coffee bloom and some hazy tune, a bouquet of lavender held to your nose, there should be someone who seizes you, and simply smiles and knows.

// 27.01.13 

                                                                         

    self, 2011