Pure, is a dog licking their own butt.

Pure, is sweat gathering at the base of your skull.

Pure is arthritic flare ups after hours of orgasm hunting.

Pure, is the last remnants of the dinosaurs darting through an unmown field.

Pure, is it the smell of a new born baby, or the moment you know the diaper needs changing?

Pure, is it the church choir singing, or sobs silently filling a confessional?

Pure, as the driven snow, or a week old browning snowman leaning to the left?

Pure, is it white sheets, or sheets sticking to the backs of your legs in the heat?

Like what you read? Give DHBogucki a round of applause.

From a quick cheer to a standing ovation, clap to show how much you enjoyed this story.