On the sixth day of Christmas, I craved a feeling.
A specific feeling, really.
I craved a couch. And a book. And me.
All of us rolled up together,
where nothing and no one could find us.
It’s not like I wanted to escape the day
or the responsibilities that lay before me.
I just wanted to read.
I wanted to remember the warmth—
snuggling on the couch with a book
and a lovely new imaginary friend (or two.)
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com
There’s nothing quite like that feeling.
The touch of a book, the smell.
The firecrackers that tickle the skin,
melting me—word by delectable word.
Thank goodness there’s tonight.
I think I’ll read, tonight.
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