the most dangerous of smells
After two weeks of making myself sweat through the night, i am loading the washing machine. Against my better judgement. Fevers from the past were never cured that easily. After two weeks, however, the sweather in question stoped resembling him. It was all my smell and no scent of a hug at all. I washed my hair multiple times and still felt the right hand moving the hairs while drying them, just before preparing the tea. I close my eyes with a bit of regret, as the machine starts spinning at the speed of no return. A dress that got soaked that evening dried up and became stiff, almost brittle. I'll wait a few days before washing it. I'll look at it for few more mornings. Ill let it evaporate into the room. It still has few specles of the tree bark that landed on a red fabric from the leaves above us. He said it's been a while he's seen such a strong rain and it seems i always bring heavy clouds with me. I said i've never seen this kind of storm nor experienced it ...
