Whispers in my ears | Julie Stephenson

Curious. Creative. Living Boldly.

Its lips touch my neck and it whispers in my ears

in a language which cannot be transcribed or written using

characters or symbols,

but I hear it and I understand.

In the desert darkness its breath gently closes my eyelids

and comforts me to sleep

and continues to waft and blow through my dreams.

by Julie Stephenson