“ come back to bed. ” @starfalled + francis
THERE ARE WORDS WHICH STILL CLING TO HIS LIPS , unspoken, unsaid, doomed to fade into oblivion, into the realm where all thoughts ripped from man’s mind go to die. some of them are scribbled in lilac ink on corners of forgotten pages, others drift around him in golden letters placed neatly in the air in dust filled study. draped like cloak around him, words, to drown in, stories, to never die in.
lover calls him from door-frame, leans against it with sleep still in beautiful eyes. reaches out to him through the haze of everything there is still left to do. time ticks on, a clock overflowing with rose petals. with liquid sunrise of another day. ❝ yes, yes love. just a minute. ❞ wave of his hand disturbs woven lines, cuts through golden glow, makes them fizzle and scatter like the smoke of the lit cigarette resting in ashtray besides his hand.
either strawberry or nicotine. it’s all a vice which shall kill him in the end. best to leave a collection a man can be proud of to be remembered by. quill scratches across parchment, fills the silence with monotone screaming of a mind which refuses to be silent. it’s desperation which colours the skin underneath his eyes blue and black. nothing a good powder wasn’t able to cover up. ❝ i’m almost done, i think i’ve got it, francis. ❞
chair spins, fades the last of the words out / leaves no mark of falling stardust when he rises, cups lovers cheeks before kissing him. ❝ just a moment longer, yes ? i will be right back in bed with you, i promise. ❞
he rarely ever does, but it’s the thought that counts.
