Waking up under red curls, hot breath and thrown, tiny bodies.

 

Little rag dolls.

 

The fur of dogs rising and falling over my pillows.

 

Joshua Tree Breakfast Bliss coffee.

 

Chocolate for breakfast.

 

Bob Dylan.

 

Mountains, rivers, farms or beaches.

 

Squealing innocence.

 

Empty roads.

 

Air the temperature of warm bath water.

 

Cryptic messages left behind by dead poets.

 

A phone call from an old friend.

 

Dancing.

 

Princesses battling with sticks in torn dresses.

 

Smiling pit bulls.

 

A shot of Bullet.

 

Thai food.

 

Desert rain storms.

 

Maybe I fall in love again.

 

#prompt6

Hour 6, Prompt 6