literature

ships

Deviation Actions

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Published: Jan 19, 2013

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Literature Text

When I lift his thin shirt up over the corners of his lips and pull it against his ebony hair I see the ridges of mountains that rest over his heart; securing it into place. I feel sleek valleys as I trace his tense stomach with the tips of my fingers.

I am in wanderlust-- crossing fragile, foregin cities and sun kissed deserts, looking for exploration. Learning his different countries.

My hands turn into driftwood ships. His skin becomes my ocean.

And, I am home.

Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License

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Hi there! Just a note to let you know that I've featured this piece in my journal