At times in prose my words wither With a pretentious fleeting Lacking oxygen of this bard's love As the valance of day shawls Then back to wither without a trace As a specter shakes my Gothic violin And as candlelight flickers in shadows A breath of your presence breathes life On the walls of my sacred space As your kiss pollinates my soul With your lips of sweet resin As a specter
from Lush Stories - latest Sex Stories http://bit.ly/2SToGKK
0 comments:
Post a Comment