this is your meaning of air.

Curtains
by Matthew Burgos

My misty light was fluctuating as soon as your fingers stayed, unabashed, onto my shivering film. The gleam of your teeth flashed and I bared my neck to you – drink the unflavored wine inside my veins and return it with your own spirit.

Instead, I thought, of clothing my lungs and naïve head with your gentlest kisses, you looped a long, rusty chain around my wrists and locked me in your room. The transformation of the day to night then back again was the only beautiful thing reigning between my dying devotion and my craving body.

As the sun kissed the lines of darkness, the winds drifted across the curtains and into my thirsty throat. For once, please, open the windows and let me breathe.


WORD COUNT: 125

Thank you for reading this story. If you want to talk about random things with me, do not hesitate to reach me through my “Contact” page. All the best love, my dear.

let me hold your words before you leave;

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