Whisper Sing
I truly like nothing more than
the sound of rain beating down on my window, threatening to shatter the conveniently transparent barrier; the only thing separating me from the storm. All while safely enclosed by a too-thick duvet doing absolutely nothing. Alone. No music, no television. Just me, my duvet, in the grey room surrounded by a sweet sweet symphony.
Or something. With you. Underneath that duvet could lie two beating hearts, two steady breaths, the subtle smell of strawberries, and entwined toes.
Hair a mess; fully clothed, yet bottomless; we whisper sing.
Unaware fall into a slow and peaceful sleep. Enter serenity.







