Whispering Thoughts

I can record your reverberating, resonating laughters, the ones that start straight from heart and reach your lips, and play and replay them over and over again. And then, I can imagine the rosy blush, the surge of warm blood, that slivers of smile lend to your cheeks and feel a little envious of their soft, subtle caress. Your quick breaths and short gasps interspersed between hearty chuckles can warm me on icy days. But, I am left with this irresistible urge to reach out and touch and kiss those squeezed eyelids and those laughter lines. What do I do? Linking with Thin Spiral Notebook: 100 words: Record

Steal, surrender, yield. Commit a sheer divine sin, perfect crime called love. Linking with Haiku Horizons : Commit

I found you thus! Oblivious to the loud banter of stained machines, rattle of motors, squealing belts and hustling cogs. Bent over a lathe, with a staff member, perhaps runing some diagnostics. That metallic beast held your complete attention. Your skilled hands moved deftly over her, tracing her sleek cuts and exploring the nuances of her body. You skillfully maneuver the lady. Tweaking, twisting, teasing. Until she trembles and springs to life. You pat her gently, "That's my girl!" And then someone calls you over, and you busy yourself with iron-teethed gears. Mesmerized, I revel in this version of you. Linking with Friday Fictioneers

Your hands run in the mess of my hair, your touch tender and full of care. I stir a little, perhaps even mumble, incoherently in sleep. You pull me in the circle of your arms, my back fits perfectly in the hollow of your torso and your warm legs entangle in my not-so-warm. Its a biting January morning, cold, frosty and foggy. But nestled in you, I am all cozy and warm. And then drifting in and out of consciousness, I realize I am dreaming. I hold on to the vision, and prolong my sleep. until the quilt becomes cold. Linking with Thin Spiral Notebook : 100 words: Cold

Random late night thought, or a longing for my soul, on your mind atleast. Linking with Haiku Horizons : Late