17 January 2010

Another morning...

How can my skin be sensitive now? I have pushed it outwards from my core, my body; I have converted the comforts of wine and crisps, chocolate and bread and plumped out the space between. It should be deadened from all the time it has spent with only the answering pressure of the mattress, pushing back at my weight. It should be as numb as I feel without you to grip me.

But I feel the slide of the satiny covers, cool against my leg as I move it to where my body has not rested, my skin twitches as a fly tiptoes across my rounded shoulder. My reactions are sluggish but not gone, I am only hibernating to recover myself.


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