The First Of The First Of Every
We sit in a meadow, looking up at the sun until we’re looking at stars. Laying in a fairytale. Every inhale is lavender and every exhale is silk.
As her head laid on my lap, I stroked her hair gently and it was my way of telling her how beautiful the moment was and of the perfection I found in it. Her stillness told me that she loved it too.
I stroked her hair lovingly. I stroked it caressingly until I realized my hand was red and wet. I cleaned it with my shirt and tried to forget. “Shh, ” I whispered to her and held her closer.
Then after a moment, it came back for me. ...