daffodilbird
She sat inside the telephone booth,
and his breath fogged up the glass.
She fumbled with his buttons as she headed towards the past.
With one eye on the telephone, and one on his skin,
she moaned ever so softly as someone walked in.
I stand. In a kitchen. Apron around my waist. My eyes are bright as I pull the pie, out from the hungry mouth of the steel beast. Steam wafts up, and my eyes are bright. I get ready to welcome my husband as he steps through the door. This must be living.
why hello there little one. Are you there, resting on my neck? Do you kiss, or bite? Sharp teeth, or soft tongue...are you both? Pain or beauty? I crane my neck, but i still cannot see.