Wednesday, January 03, 2007

Led by the nose.

I want to delve into your soul in a breath.

Breathing rushed whispers into your ear...tiny warm words, wide eyed words. Do you want it?

My fingertips run themselves fleetingly along your chest, cheeks, ears, collarbone, like moths fluttering against windowglass. Each touch leaves a spark and increasing longing. Muscles tense, gasping.

And when I lean in to touch your lips with mine, you take them ruthlessly...without apology. You part my teeth with your tongue and what you find...

What you find....

Is that I've given you my head cold.



  1. so this is good news and sad news...ever since my kids grew up and no longer attend public school AND my prolonged single lifestyle...I've not been sick for colds or the flu. IN some ways that is great but in other ways its ...sad tale of lonely loser.

    (oh yeah the exception being my recent bout with an intestinal infection...but that isn't from swapping body fluids with anyone)

  2. ahem... feeling just a touch violated here.

  3. Well, that started out pretty promissing. I'm sorry you have a cold but with your familie's connections to kids in school I'll bet you have a lot of places where it might have come from.

  4. You are good, my dear! Hey, what is the name of your husband's poetry book, again. I'm organizing my reading list, have reference to your hubby's work, but no actual book! Thanks.


  5. No, thanks. I'm trying to quit.


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