Our bare skins nuzzle closer, narrowing the quiet universe, this dark and warm bedroom, expanding the echo of heartbeats, little vibrations that seem to hum softly to together. Flesh always grazes heat, blood surges in its invisible tides, its flowing,...
Member: elliotlacey31
Mark the horizon with your light, a glowing note I can always read and keep with me. Because when I look at stars, I never see the math or the science explaining them, much like your cheek pressed close to...
I feel you through any division, oceans, cities, secret tracts and tunnels, cables that bind an entire planetary canvas. Your heartbeat plucks at them, sings to my bones with a language made of vibrations, of subtle codes that gradually race...
Through a coupling in which we opened like strange flowers, the moments after are pure, even fragile. Something that almost betrays the seemingly ceaseless frenzy from before. It's only love, this new stillness, this cloudburst of things too swollen to...
I become uncoiled near you,even though your arms snared me,legs seized around my waist as we tumble on the sheets,there is almost a need for composure. If I let go now and you become the fuel for every need, every...
In one version of the story,this was the night I lost you,where nothing about my heartcould surge through you anymore,registering only as a stranger's gaze.Your final touch was like a stone,cold screaming throughout mefrom the contact of one fingertip,it's why...
Paint your shadows with me now, the dark that slips through and sleeps embedded within, turn the pitch of that lustful cry to match the sound of my name. I won't dance around the subject, an animal in me tenses...
I was searching inside you, trying to quell your rage,we cannot take these fevers back,even though your naked skin canso easily pull away from mine,something inseparable mergedAnd surged within that first touch, all else becomes listless without your presence relentlessly...
The Valley Note Revisited
"A continuation of a recent one"
Someone asked me to tellthe rest of this story,I can only give away the segments that remain.Some were scribbled overtoo many times with bleeding ink,some may have been burnedwithout me one autumn evening.I know that some of them flew offinto...
You once noted that there arehints of a dark side gleaming in me, that there is love in each touch, but they are choreographed with caution. As if restraint must battle instinct, keeping something so quietly caged. And I see...