to create a little flower is the labour of ages

lust

Virgin
Joined
Oct 8, 2000
Posts
3
The soft touch of silk, ...
the perfume on the neck of beautiful creature...
but mostly the sense of passion.
 
A shadow... a sound , calm and comforting.
your eyes, tender with light and yet mysterious...

creature of the dark, angel of the light.
 
My soul rest against the being of your eternity
I find solace in your sweet oblivion
falling deeply in to you witheach moment I am
 
lips touch
fingers brush, softly
eyes meet and I fall in
to the well of your soul.
 
With each breath I draw
you fill me with another reason to live
With each touch of your skin
you give me a reason to hold on
with each gaze into you eyes
you give me a reason to seek
 
Fear lies beneath.
Temptation anguish, remorse and exhaltation
Wonders to which I know little
But only to evoque redemption..

Light, shines and my heart is rekindled.
 
And So I burn in your fire
I fly on the passionate heat rising from our union
lost in a whirlwind of emotions
but found in a glimmer in your eye
 
Everything small has to grow. Without a push without a prod a deep red rose springs from her pod.
 
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