Tuesday, November 17, 2009
It's actually midnight and I feel the ground quaking beneath my pawed feet. I am nervously clawing the ground, running my fingers through my hair. As I wait, I wait, I wonder. Because we once were, we now could be. Or maybe as we were once, we now can not be. I think wildly should I wait under the firs for you long enough, I'd hear your cloven hoofs coming towards me. I tremble as I envision your hand on my shoulder behind closed lids. A breath on my neck. The snow drifts up and swifts across my shoe. My teeth chatter and I see you. I see you.
Posted by thistlepearl at 8:28 PM