#writingscenario

Two shot glasses of cozy vanilla moon milk set on the bar counter top desiring your lips

The devils jazz sways the club around you

Dim lights dance with shadows and crawl up the walls

You reach for it, for the essence calling too you and entangle yourself in the warm bitter sweet liquid as it handcuffs you,

You're tired now and with much effort you find your way to an elevator that brings you to a dark and elegant room.

Black silk sheets capture light as it cuddles a large bed, & you can't help but find your way inside the cool soft web of darkness,

Giving into the vanilla and cinnamon trance, relaxing just as your soul whispers "my turn".