Aida Zabidi
It’s you and me, baby. 

Curled up in bed as we have, many many times before, tucked under my sheets right before bedtime. 

I’m closing my eyes as I let you tell me your story. You catch my imagination as always – it’s in the rise and fall of your storytelling, and I am captivated by the characters that you tell. I am there with them from beginning to end, drawn in by the tapestry of the scenes. 

You never fail to draw me in. 

I am all too aware of my breathing, all too aware the narrowing gap between us. I am aware of my desperation, a desperation born of impatience. I do not know what sorcery this is, and how you manage to lure me into bed every single time, lull me beyond any sleepiness I might have to spend time with you instead, but you have me under your spell. 

And under that spell I’ll stay.
2 Responses
  1. How do your words come to you? They never fail to inspire.


  2. They just do. It happens, not unlike how your words come to you. :)


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