Nov. 27, 2017

The temperature is below zero here, and I am stuck in the middle of a town where bus signs are in a language I used to know a decade ago. I just saw a guy order an iced coffee. The idea of putting something cold in between my lips terrifies me now more than ever. The warmth, I need some warmth.

To (all of) you

Devour my lips, but don’t trust the words that come from it. I am good with words. Like a spider, intricately spinning its web, with no other purpose but to catch a prey.

(Just because I’ve been on several dates lately. And I’m still afraid of what I’m capable/incapable of. *cue Robyn’s Hang With Me*)