Hidden place.

Now, I have been slightly shy but I can smell a pinch of hope to almost have allowed once fingers to stroke. The fingers I was given to touch with, but careful, careful.
(I'll keep it in a hidden place).
He's the beautifullest, fragilest, still strong, dark and divine. (And the littleness of his movements hides himself).
He invents a charm that makes him invisible, hides in the hair.
Can I hide there too?
Hide in the hair of him, seek solace, sanctuary.


(He slides inside half awake / half asleep. We faint back into sleephood. When I wake up the second time in his arms : gorgeousness!)



[Salve Björk]