Lost in your own thoughts, you were painting in a dimmed room. Clothes, covered in a rainbow of colours – tiny dots of evidence of how you transform your vision onto canvas.
You didn’t hear me enter the room. I watched you for a while, patiently waiting for you to turn around. To acknowledge me.
Grubby hands, the roughness of your fingers and the dried out paint. You grabbed me by my neck and harshly pinned me against the wall, lifting me up off the floor a little. Pure fire in both of our eyes.
I have never been kissed before. Like THIS.
– Chatty Owl –