Or a funny sort of Thursday.
Sanity was replaced with the touch of complete satisfaction.
Now hours after the bliss in the promising dawn you cling like second skin.
Lust takes on the form of gratification and even in sleep the after glow is memorized by your sentimental heart.
I haven't the heart just yet to wake you or to say all that remains of the breathless fulfillment is my regret.
I'm filled with guilt for my usual self-control stood idly by while you abandoned virtue.
I let you sleep.
We have arrive at the end of the week.
My love, my care,