vanitystrain

The warm light that starts, runs through each and every cell of my body. A lambent light that amps up each of my senses. The feeling of sheets on my arched back. Of your on my skin. Of hair brushing the back of my neck as I turn. The heat from the lamp casting stares against my flesh. A feeling that changes from electric and sharp, to languid and yielding. In the afterglow all I want to do is stretch, and drink in the world, suddenly alive again.