Shina-K

Each day the the early morning sun creeps in through the blinds. She's a silent woman, always tiptoeing silently across the bare floor. The way she stretches and bends over everything in front of her is just so obscene. Her bright fingers always find their way over my face, caressing my ear and moving over my mouth, my nose, my cheek. There was a word for it. I didn't want it, and instinct took over in the same way it does when your airways are covered and a rough hand is holding you up. I try to brush her away, always forgetting that hers is a phantom touch. It burns my skin, too hot for me so early in the day. When she kisses my eyes, she s