The air is humid. My skin feels moist and a little warm and suffocated.
I hear the birds chirping little musical notes outside in the early morning light.
My two boys are still slumbering.
I am working on my little cyber corner of the internet.
And I am not talking about this journal either.
Hint hint.
So much to do.
Yet again not enough time.
I have to resort to these early hours to dabble in creativity.
I feel like kissing someone.
And that certain someone is sleeping in our bed.
I will plant a whispered kiss on his skin.
A kiss so weightless that he will not notice it in his sleep.
But I know that his heart will sense it.