Jar by Batool Hasan

The water turns hotter and hotter, as I try to scrub off the tingling ghosts your fingertips left on me. The crinkles of your smiling eyes flash behind my eyelids. My fingertips ache to trace the lines of your warm smile.

I scrub harder.

I blink.

Your teasing eyes.

I shake my head harder.

Red skin and scorching-hot water. Continue reading