latinlyric
Virgin
- Joined
- Dec 15, 2003
- Posts
- 24
My December Love...
My December Love (waiting Pablo)
Pablo sits at his desk, the flowing chill of December night air whispers into his ear. He can almost feel her breath on his cheek and thinks of what it would be like if Shantina were here. That's impossible, she is miles away and he will never see her again, for that is the way of the world. All good things must come to a screeching halt at a moment's notice, even if it is involving two twisted souls who long for the others company as the days wear on. Pablo lazily glances over at the empty screen that glares into his eyes each night that he is alone, which is forevermore. A mirror reflects his deep brown eyes back at him which peer into his soul and reveal truths, piercing through iceblocks with passionless heat of angst. Thinking of what he should do, write a poem to noone in particular, or possibly sit and wait for some great spectacle to happen?, *thinks* "Yeah, sure like that will ever occur." He grazes the mouse, which activates the now stirring computer screen, emitting rays of light which illuminate the darkeness surrounding his half-naked body. Cloth is nothing but a giftwrap to the hidden gems underneath a person's personality, which are swiftly hurled at the nearest floor in the throes of passion. Pablo is different, he lets nothing be discarded and grasps onto the folds of a womans mind like newborn an infant which clutches his mothers breast. His long slender fingers skitter across the keyboard as thieves do in the night, stealing glances through the glow, onto the awaiting field which patterns of love run lovingly across. Pablo has begun typing a plea for welcome and invites others to join him in the quest for friendship. In the back of his mind races thoughts of Shantina and he hopes that by some miracle she should come across it and reply......
My December Love (waiting Pablo)
Pablo sits at his desk, the flowing chill of December night air whispers into his ear. He can almost feel her breath on his cheek and thinks of what it would be like if Shantina were here. That's impossible, she is miles away and he will never see her again, for that is the way of the world. All good things must come to a screeching halt at a moment's notice, even if it is involving two twisted souls who long for the others company as the days wear on. Pablo lazily glances over at the empty screen that glares into his eyes each night that he is alone, which is forevermore. A mirror reflects his deep brown eyes back at him which peer into his soul and reveal truths, piercing through iceblocks with passionless heat of angst. Thinking of what he should do, write a poem to noone in particular, or possibly sit and wait for some great spectacle to happen?, *thinks* "Yeah, sure like that will ever occur." He grazes the mouse, which activates the now stirring computer screen, emitting rays of light which illuminate the darkeness surrounding his half-naked body. Cloth is nothing but a giftwrap to the hidden gems underneath a person's personality, which are swiftly hurled at the nearest floor in the throes of passion. Pablo is different, he lets nothing be discarded and grasps onto the folds of a womans mind like newborn an infant which clutches his mothers breast. His long slender fingers skitter across the keyboard as thieves do in the night, stealing glances through the glow, onto the awaiting field which patterns of love run lovingly across. Pablo has begun typing a plea for welcome and invites others to join him in the quest for friendship. In the back of his mind races thoughts of Shantina and he hopes that by some miracle she should come across it and reply......
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