Artwork by Thomas Saliot
I dream of laying in a fancy room blanketed in white: white walls, white sheets, white furniture, white carpeting. A royal bed sitting center of the angelic room, as it’s bed frame would be a gigantic window that painted the vigorous life beyond our four pearly walls. The sound of crashing waves coming from outside the window that we’d always leave open. The oceans breeze making up the sweet, salty aroma of our chamber on the sea’s edge.
In the middle of the day I would lay on that masterful bed half naked, red-lace lingerie clinging to my skin. My legs would softly stroke the other as my arms rest lightly on the heavenly pillows above my head. The sound of light strokes from white ivories would drip from the walls, coloring my arousal. On a warm afternoon I would soberly lay on that bed – only to have you come home and find me lying there. Waiting patiently only for you.
Forever more the sea would remind us of this room, tied tightly to the endless memories we created.
This lust I have for you is revolutionary, so much so that you’ve turned me into a dangerous dreamer.