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Phoenix32Poems
He was the pen, and I was the paper. His words rained over me as he spilled his ink. With each stroke of his pen he wrote poems inside me.
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Apr 23, 2020
Apr 23, 2020 at 4:04 PM UTC
The Poet
He was the pen, and I was the paper. His words rained over me as he spilled his ink. With each stroke of his pen he wrote poems inside me.
#lust#lover#desire#love#fantasy#poet
Phoenix32
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Phoenix32
Stardust soul
Apr 23, 2020
Apr 23, 2020 at 4:04 PM UTC
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