As the autumn's day wilted to the dusk On a trellis of vines with otto of rose Butterflies sleep on petals of pollen Waiting for the dawn's aurora As the kettle sings of my sweet Mimosa While the tenors of night chorus Angels commute from tree to lea And God fills our cups with tea Of love's extract under our canopy As the kettle sings of my sweet Mimosa
from Lush Stories - latest Sex Stories https://ift.tt/2KXdMiB
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