The Silence of My Voice

I could see his hair jump up in attention the moment his fingers touched the craggy, cross-grained externality of the canvas. He was close enough, and his eyes closer enough for comfort. I saw the derrière of the cloth arch out when the pulp of his fingers pressed down the cloth, smudging the charcoal. His eyes roamed over my calves, and I could see his pupils expatiating on the nudging bone and the soft sinuosity backing it up.  Working his way up the softness of my legs, he made me feel unashamed of myself. He looked at my legs, but he saw me.  I heard his breathing hitch and mature like a wildfire when his eyes dived along the convexity of my buttocks and the sudden concavity of my belly. He squinted his eyes on approaching my navel, and sighed loudly on seeing the ring there. A desolate smirk worked its way up his mouth as he transited his attention back to the canvas. He took in all of my ass in a glance, but he saw me. His eyes licked their way ar...

Twelve flavours Twelve lovers Twelve dates Twelve places  Twelve kisses Twelve beds Twelve breakfasts Twelve flowers Twelve coffees Twelve teas Twelve omelettes Twelve sunny side ups Twelve walks Twelve restaurants Twelve pasts Twelve presents Twelve futures Twelve projects Twelve jobs Twelve cities Twelve foods Twelve eyes Twelve voices Twelve poems Twelve stories Twelve songs Twelve genres Twelve exes Twelve, more to come Twelve t-shirts Twelve shirts Twelve sweaters Twelve bras Twelve blankets Twelve days Twelve nights Twelve weeks Twelve months The past year And the next to come. Therapy. Happier this time,  Ak.