I burned themuntying each knotlining them up in tidy rowson soot-stained hearthan addict cutting lines. Bondagemy drugred lines of jutemirrored in flamegone to ash. Pre-dawnI prowled the yearshaunteddreamlesslistening to the soft creak and moanof foundation shiftsand memories like old rope trackssecret markscollaring ankleswristsneckcrossroads between breastsbetween thighssculpted impressionsrefusing to fade. Rope fingers phantom limbslingerteasing secret spots making pussy glisten with tearsmy eyes refuse to shed. Knotted cords glidewhiskery threads lickingfingers retracing invisible trackspinching the craving from puckered nipplesworking the feverish burn from quivering lipsrereading love stories written in shibari-Braille immersed in fantasynostrils flare drinking in musky male tongue twitching against tang achy knot bathed in heat of his release I lock…

Posting this to encourage all my Nano Diva friends. Good luck with the word counts this weekend ladies. Remember–no excuses!

The prompt for this week’s Single Frame Stories: Simple