roMANian MARginEa – III

Yes, it was deep since the cold touch. Have you? You should try to remember it sometimes. Will you? She tied her hands around the knees thought to write a poem to her world, a half-drunken wine waiting for her lips, a blank paper teased her with a smile. Time always keen to eat her words; cunning breeze made her eyes wet. Her mother ordered her to close the backdoor. Once an invisible man was standing beside the door, he will catch your smile and sell it. Dull sounds, glittering stars, green mountains and wild flowers waiting for the perfect detailed kiss from her. She once tried to paint the taste of a kiss, divine touches of two smooth fleshes, her nipples acted like her rigorous mother, hard and feeding the soul into him. He cried inside her to find himself, the pain of passion dissolved in them. Blinking secrets fetched her tears, her wishes spawned with virgin words and pooped moves are blurred in self-possession. The essence of orgasm nourishing her recreation, then she thought to write a poem to her world time always keen to eat her words, cunning breeze always made her eyes wet.
Timidity dominates her unwritten pages; cold jokes dallied near the dark woods. She hates the seconds of panic, aroma from her purple palms, intoxicated the frowning mob, closed door still closed, unwritten pages are still unwritten. She tied her hands around the knees, thought to write a poem to her world. A silent angel is there in her couch smiling with magic words. Hanging in her branches of mind, sometimes whining in unknown sounds. Painting darkness without bedlam colors, burning the crying wizards. Flames enters into her eyes, still a silent angel is there in her couch. Tears always stops near eye lid, fears chopped her blinking spaces, obstinate shadows hugging us, her silence has intimacy with angels. Still their nails are astounding. They have to wait, to kiss her nails.

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2 Responses to roMANian MARginEa – III

  1. cripple says:

    Its lovely.

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