Weaver
So precious is this life, this gift,
this temporary blindness.
this temporary blindness.
She can’t help but chuckle at that, her smile wide. ”Probably,” she agrees. It is perhaps true, though if it is, clearly she doesn’t mind. It’s all just a construct anyway, the sort of thing that doesn’t actually mean anything. What is it to be in someone’s league or not? ”Apparently you are doing something right.” He really was doing something right. She was here after all, in his league or not. And more to the point, she really didn’t want to be anywhere else.
They both manage to wiggle out of some clothes, and despite the cold of their home, his skin against hers is warm. Her heartbeat thrums with anticipation and delight at the sensation of his lips trailing down her skin, his hands on her hips. A small hum of approval slips from her lips. Her own hands explore his now exposed back, nails trailing lightly against his skin, as he works his way down her body.
They both manage to wiggle out of some clothes, and despite the cold of their home, his skin against hers is warm. Her heartbeat thrums with anticipation and delight at the sensation of his lips trailing down her skin, his hands on her hips. A small hum of approval slips from her lips. Her own hands explore his now exposed back, nails trailing lightly against his skin, as he works his way down her body.
Burn and drown and embrace the false dark,
then grasp the unthinkable height of resulting joy.
then grasp the unthinkable height of resulting joy.
