Tag Archives: kissing

Of Walls, Waits, and Wistfulness

It was a warm and spring-like evening when our heroine sat tapping away at her keyboard, clad in unsightly short shorts and a 15-year-old concert t-shirt that never would live to see the streets again.
Tom Waits wailed in his gravelly splendour as a breeze softly batted the bamboo blinds. She peered over the rim of [...]

Kissy-Kissy

Sleep unable to find me, I lie naked under my sheets, a hand across my breasts, the other stretched atop my thigh.
The dim streetlight filters through my cotton bedroom shades and its shadows dancing on my ceiling are all I see.
For I know that when I close my eyes again, you’ll flood back in front [...]