If The Sun Had Arms Comments

Honey nectar sweet and sticky I wade in it.
I wait in it.
Head upturned, feet kicking, the pulsing warmth of the sun gently licking my neck. Softer than a feather, caressing my ebony skin.
I sit in the warmth, letting it whisper a love song to my soul. Enriching the minerals of my skin, highlighting and pouring glitter into the mild brown of my irises. A calm peace coming over me, with great arms wrapped around me like a golden shawl with the sun’s comforting song of warmth knitted into each stitch.
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