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  • Writer's pictureCirce

Cabin in the Woods

Photo by Olivier Guillard

I am sitting at a wooden deck made of old oak.

Outside my cabin in the woods

Overlooking a beautiful beautiful lake

Blue crystal on the surface mirroring the mountains and the trees in the their ochre and orange glory of the Fall.

I am sitting at my table.

Breathing in the solace and calm of an awakening forest.

You step out of the cabin barefoot and I know stark bare bodied wrapped in our blanket. Only.

In the blanket all soft and plush.

Your feet are white against the wet wood of the deck.

You sneak up behind me.

Bend down and gather me up inside our blanket.

You smell of me. Unapologetic.

But me on you is so you.

You have woven me into yourself with the choicest skillfulness of Arabian tapestry.

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