"write down a positive memory" — July 9, 2021

I’m on a train. Hills are bursting behind her as light caresses her lips. I sense her breathing. The motion of her lips, her soft skin. She raises her hands toward me. Her hand blocks the sunlight, whose beams leak in between her fingers, them glowing in crimson. I touch her as if harping her fingers one by one. Time is meaningless. The whole and everything are her lips and fingers, bathed by gentle northern sunlight.





Love podcasts or audiobooks? Learn on the go with our new app.

Recommended from Medium

It’s funny how this world bends the paths that people walk on.

To my Shaman


Like a Spring in Garlan

The Soul’s Path

Words to my body

Get the Medium app

A button that says 'Download on the App Store', and if clicked it will lead you to the iOS App store
A button that says 'Get it on, Google Play', and if clicked it will lead you to the Google Play store



More from Medium

You can’t hate yourself into a version of yourself that you love.

When being strong is a “choice” you make.

Unrequited Love