Home

Curled into his warm body, nose pillowed in his stubbled cheek, I inhale and fall deeply into the scent of home. 

A small insomniac stone

Drawn to the screen
like a moth
to a cool slick flame.
Scarring is inevitable.

Apprehension

Fog tendrils linger
and creep
soften jagged thoughts
smother
and cool
raw bruised tissue.
Slow black descent
in scented nothing.
Breathe.
Do you think this is safety?
Then fall
deep
uncertain
lost
alone