Alone In The Night.

My journal sleeps beside me at night. It has taken the place of a companion, a friend and lover. All I have left to give gets firmly pressed upon its stiff pages. The rough exterior of hardened leather lies there in the night yearning for me peel back the cover exposing the nakedness underneath. This barren, unspoiled land is mine for the taking and take I will. I run my fingertips down the paper and become excited as I feel the ribbed texture that awaits my pen in hand to unleash its passion.
With heavy breath I breathe in the intoxicating aroma of masculinity, this leather – this leather!
I submit and allow the flow of ink to gush out onto the pages in a burst of excitement. Line after sticky line, I push harder and harder forcing my will upon it – I don’t want this to end!
I tire, my creative juices no longer flow – I’m spent.
I gently lay my book back down, resting it upon it’s back. The heat from my hands made it’s once rough exterior now malleable like clay. It has now submitted to me.


~ by kagomesakura on April 8, 2011.

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