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By Blue Song Date: 2001 Oct 11 Comment on this Work [[2001.10.11.00.42.24735]] |
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Soft smoke, scented fresh, hazing slow this atmosphere, clouding all to deepest twilight, till blush starts to form turning all to cherry delight. Hint of yellow, wave of heat, blast doors open wide. Smoke is gone, all is hot, the room pants on its own. Throbbing tempo more than felt, rushing waves of sudden breaths. Mind cries soft, body demands harder, soul has touched the sky, touched the sky, the sky. Room is normal, tender whispers, softest kiss, sleep surrender, light caress, soft smoke, scented fresh ... |