hpoetry

Pebbles

I roll pebbles between my fingers,

dancing to a slow song playing only in my mind,

imagining a candlelit ballroom

and a romantic starry sky

and all the makings of a romance novel;

dreaming of a warm body wrapped

around my own.

 

I wash the pebbles in the sink

with the sweetest smelling soaps

so I can press them to my lips

and feel their smoothness like a kiss of nature,

inhale the soft scent

and know that it is safe and clean and okay.

 

I keep my pebbles on my bedside table

and I hold them in the palm of my hand,

feeling them turn from stone cold

to warm