3 May 2012
She makes her way from sofa to bed, furrowed brow.
It's days like these I wish for a puppy, a pet, or a lover, someone to be the big spoon - to mop my fevered brow, push my hair behind my ear, kiss the nape of my neck, squeeze my belly in tight and stop everything from falling out.
sometimes independence is a curse.
No man beside her, no man inside her - every time she tries to move on, she remembers the day she craved sushi for breakfast.
She Craved Sushi For Breakfast • Opuss № I