That winter was a hard one, eh?
Feels like the last one, though it won’t be.
As always, just as my eyes finally acclimatise, my skin adjusts, my jumpers become a second skin… It’s time to shrug them off.
Exposing soft light flesh to warm light. Full belly. Stretched and sore and sitting quietly. The lull after being cleansed deeply and fully and violently and lovingly by the storm. Like a good thorough shag; this winter fucked me good and proper, and I’m satisfied.