Black tee

J.H

“Are you nervous?”

She held me close, not with her hands, with her eyes; I was at her service.

The air was wearing thin, and it wasn’t from nerves, she now held me, I was captive, under her pin. 

She illuminated me with her subtle laugh, I was out of oxygen, her lips were my mask. 

So I tugged at her black tee, navigating her to my lips, and in that moment, she refilled all that spilled from me. 

Jade Hayek 

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