My time
The morning is my time
to find myself
and make myself feel
alive.
The day can kill me
grind down my soul
but under the covers or beneath the jet of water
I am renewed.
A man is a night time toy,
the morning belongs to me.
It is my time to play.
It is my time.
What’s this about? I can’t quite put my finger on it…
take your time, Annie darlin’
Take time to make time 🙂
Timeless 🙂
Languid and lush and lovely.
Ties in really well with his http://pyrotechniedomestiques.wordpress.com/2013/02/21/glissando/
Great minds, eh?
Ti,e on your hands, Annie? I like the lazy sly pace here.
Mmm mmm mmm.
You have the tender touch, Annie!
This certainly hits the spot!
Tick, tock!
You’re having the *time* of your life!
It’s a good time, too.
It’s the best use of it I can think of.