No Lack of Loquaciousness

distant-signals:

With your small legs tucked up tight against mine, the smooth skin of your back lapping like gentle waves against my lowest ribs in time with with your slow and easy breath, I of course think of spoons. The similarity in shape is an easy leap, but not the only one I make - I think of function, of purpose and of intent. Of this simple design but clever tool, the implement shaped for sustenance, for sharing, for small tastes of a greater good. I think of your role in my life, your sprinkling of sugar into my black coffee mind, your teasing saccharine flavour that yet lingers on my tongue. You share and sweeten this bed, my being, this blooded tidal romance that still surges like a storm. You stir my life, fit my form, rest easy in my hands and feel so smooth and silver upon my tongue. 

(via weakmeatstrongeat)