Creeping of the moon's cold garnet solstice And crystals of blue ice frosting When winter fingers lay upon the fallen snow And I in sleepy-time hearing night winds blow With sweet lips of the maple's bark Melting my heart in the gunny sack With a valance of shadow turning to dust In pantomime of spirits, we kiss On a pane of condensation In silent winds of November As the switch
from Lush Stories - latest Sex Stories http://bit.ly/2QL5IFY
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