evening

the girl liked the way beads of sweat collected in the small of her back. and the way her breasts fell together when she lay on her side. she liked the way she smelled and how her panties fitted her just right.


she moved restlessly under the covers. she liked the way the breeze touched her bare shoulders and the way the sheet felt under her hip. she could feel a single tendril of hair lifting in the breeze tickling her ear and she liked the way she chose not to wipe it away.


a single candle flickers near the bed and the girl watches the shadows it throws against the wall. she watches the tree from her nest. it's majesty, the lights playing on the resin in its leaves. she likes the way she can hear owls in the distance and how she knows a peacock will sing at precisely 5h15 a.m. hopeful in the dawn.