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Jul 2016
Lust burned within
His skin touched me
Like porcelain
White as snow
He was serene
With a sinful glow
Like the wind
Whistling into branches
The forest hummed
Sweet love calling
It was only but a whisper
He listened too
The ancient rules
Falling through
The forest floor breaking
Exploding sunbeams
From our eyes
A volcano, erupting
Rusty orange turbulence
Pushing every fiber into,
Hopelessly wishing, drifting
Into a sleepless dream
Never to be sanctioned,
Always asleep.


E.S.
Ghost Writer 3
Written by
Ghost Writer 3  San Fransisco
(San Fransisco)   
  870
       K-mari AJani Jones, ---, Darrel Weeks, ---, K G and 2 others
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