I have done some sketching while jammin' on The Beatles and now I have " I Got a Feelin' " stuck in my head. These following words surfaced.
His touch on her skin would be a mantle She could shed and put on again through the power of memory. Here on this gravel bed in the pine needle rain she let him enter her like water. The memory of this morning, his eye in hers, his movement like a tide pushing the sea against the sand of its only shore. Her body's joy was colored darker now from venture of skin on skin, might be the last one. Each image stood still besides it's own shadow. Even the warmth of his body next to her afterward was an orange brown heat she stroked with her fingers, memorizing it against the days when that space would be cold.
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