| Subject: ••••••::::.... From The Heart ....::::•••••• |
Author:
Equinox
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Date Posted: 08:28:18 03/30/01 Fri
Author Host/IP: px3nr.wp.shawcable.net/24.66.94.142
In reply to:
From the Heart
's message, "<~> <~> <~>...**Equinox**... <~> <~> <~>" on 20:06:36 03/27/01 Tue
*His pensive vision remains ahead, stationary, intentive to every movement, every twitch, every placing of the lace of pale light which lines each protrudant feature upon her, neatly set in a flawless profile, a portrait which consumes his mind, the brain which hides beneath the shell of his racked skull throbbing, pulsing, struggling, longing to consume the ivory femme, to lock her figure within him forever, to steal her within his mind, his heart, to clasp his grasps so tightly that she could never slip away, his body in constant prayer that her love would never drain away as had the others'............. His lobes fall forth in aching anticipation of yet another sweet drawl which would drain from the crease of her sable lip, leap outward from the perilous presipous, dare to grasp a hold upon his shifting lobe, to fill his mind with sweet honey which drained upon his tongue, a quench of his never-ending thirst for her, her image, her love, herself, his passion burning so deeply within him, scorching the veins which carried them through within the twisting, curling paths of his vein................* Don't apologize, m'love........ You have done nothing to diserve a beg for forgiveness.. You have done more for me than any other has, you have loved me as I love you, a gift for which I will never be able to repay you....... *He draws a stuttered breath to fill the cavities of his aching lung, its protestant scream for air only causing him to fall deeper into the humble sorrow in which he hast fallen, drowning in the depths of the pooled waters, doucing himself in a wash of salty tears which wall within the shut drape of his lid, cast away from veiw, illusive, unseen, shielded from break into the fresh, stinging air which would tear at their plightfull mind, dry them against the flesh of his cheek, the only memory of their forgotten existence the dark traces of moistened path which would line his brow and muzzle........ He draws forth once more with silent precision, his breath cutting through the back force of the winds, the winds which cut in desperation against him, struggling, perhaps, to keep him from contact of the femme whome he loved, to turn his face from hers, to avail the inevitable contact of his lips against her cheek, his lips which drain downward along the countless satin protrudes that douce him in passion........ And at long last, his lips find carress against her hers, stroking the opposite layers with his own, his mind held in unconcious, overwhelming love, the love which roots within his heart and rushes upward to stream from each widened nasal....................*
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