sapphic sick day ;:. original poem by faerie
coaxed awake in her arms after a spiked hot chocolate,
you fell asleep in her warmth,
you’re sick as a fucking dog - coughing, sneezing, aching — the whole nine yards,
but her warmth takes away aches,
she frets over your tired muscles & it makes you feel even softer,
when you make eye contact she scoops you up & joyously says she was,
waiting for the curtains call of your eyelids,
she wanted to see your pretty eyes looking at her again so bad,
but you were too cute cuddled against her skin & she was patient,
lying in careful wait with patient intention just so you got the most rest possible on your sick day off,
only unable to resist petting your hair whenever you shift more into her.













