a rapturous thud,
against a warm chest,
a red blush,
flowed up from her breast,
the colour of a rose bud.
her distant eyes,
wander the room,
never looking into thy own,
inescapable doom,
where she will then die.
her fluttering heart,
beats in her chest,
a longing to be free,
strong at best,
to be shot out like a dart.
a hoarse voice,
echoes throughout,
her warm hands,
hold me without doubt,
this, was my choice.
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Best Kept Quiet
Thoughts, Sayings, Beliefs...everything....
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