You are like a fallacious cat! With suspense, you lurk around, but I am unable to determine your enveloped complexity.
With suspense, you lurk around, but I am unable to determine your enveloped complexity.
We mumble and are granted with a possessed pause!
Our eyes have met each other and the sentencing of conviction is held captive.
Through our burning and BREAKING – we’ve established the power which creates a flammable wind.
The smile of our temptation is understood by the science of our physicality.
Your water brooks have kept the springs which give life to the destitute land.
But, I like Moses will strike my rod upon you and with ease, I shall enter this promised land.
A land which speaks of true fantasy.
True and delicate pieces of passion fruits which cover.
We’ve spoken of timing and this concept of waiting, as it truly prolongs the need to implant this seed.
The bursting of SUGAR describes the garden of energy and the galaxy from which it comes from.
One of my favorite posts in reply of seeing a post that absolutely diminishes the reality that it ultimately takes two. Stop revoking men who are just as responsible for the act. Men having random sex with these same women are also given the same projections of these women. A post like above should address men in the same attitude. If a woman is considered “Loose” men are just as loose. Responsibility can’t be one-sided when two people are having sex. Regardless if you do NOT believe in oneness, women should not be the only positioned victim who needs the counseling. Men play an equal part. SO if anyone is being embarrassed, both victims are. A One-Sided Address, to the issue, is never going to be a successful conveyor of balance.
The chamber of your folly has cast an evening spell of virgin desires.
While at my new beginning, I laughed because of the sweet tenderness that was ancient.
The room is stained with a fury that raves the composition of your frame.
Without even touching you; you have pulled me in by the embrace of your S E X.
Almost kneeling before you – I must confess that my mind has made up a story of its own tale, my next move will narrate the grasp I watch.
No longer can I dissolve the sensual practice of waiting, my rising star is engulfed with the foretaste of our cosmos.
I’m moving along the whims to rip and shatter those chandeliers and wallpapers which focus – on your internal sense of design.
We both can feel the numb grooves, that silence begins to serenade within and with a slice of thrust, we can announce a noise above the grooves!
Again and again, you’ve pulled me into the fragile trance that keeps me at the tip of your straps.
My fingers are shouting at the knob that I’m turning clockwise and I hear the loud knocking off your heart.
I’m going to turn counterclockwise to readjust the shifting locks of your combination.
You can’t hide the alarm that is aware of the danger of this focus.
I’m invoked in the present state of burglary and my crimes have bypassed the law.
Listen to Amel Larrieux’s Afraid for a deerper understanding.
I thought I was able to make a video from this piece I entitled “Moon Rush” but words fail to describe this, within the length of explanation. Expressions seem to emotionalize through visuals, but this night, it is meant to be read and understood. I am drawn to the consciousness of what is in the night, as creation and expressions shine so bright!
Acknowledging the sleepless nite! O, how I remember thee!
You come and beg of me a journey of endless lines.
So here I am – flipping through the pages and my gratitude is revealed by looking at you!
O, humble night; I have been slain through the unending symmetry.
Morning is here, by the rush of the moon.
No one truly studied the glow in the night – the sacred light that beams through the sky.
Looking in the daylight sky, she is hidden by the covering of the day and passing clouds.
Stars as meek and shy to the galaxies unknown reveal their great posture and fire.
Hollow is the night, which invites the carnal eyes who visit the nightmares of darkness.
As if you were on fire from within.
The moon lives in the lining of your skin!
Peculiar passions of haunting depictions which write on the stars!