Pillowtalk. The intimacy built upon sharing stories in the dark. In the wee hours. In the state between consciousness and slumber.
It’s like building railtracks for tonight’s train of dreams. Or perhaps even more, for a lifelong journey.

Some people see it as an arbitrary thing. A prelude perhaps, to help get over the initial jitters. Or just basic courtesy.

To me, it’s always the main course. You know, baring your soul is such a tricky thing to do. Nothing better than being a little off guard, a little fragile.

By and.i.try

corporate slave by day. poet by night. rock chick by default.
eats cupcakes with a sip of nonsense.

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