So I’ve noticed that my drafts are piling up once again. I don’t really feel like continuing them at the moment, I just feel like writing this one, then getting to bed.
“I miss you,” my prince tells me
My eyes sting with images I’ve never seen.
“I want you,” my prince tells me
Tears stream down my cheeks.
The object of my affection,
The object of his desire
Love is painful, isn’t it?
But one touch isn’t enough.
Goodnight. I have a busy day tomorrow.
Advertisement
