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To describe beauty—isn't by sight, rather insight. The mind is beautiful, a *** ***** pleasing of the know how it shows, of how much experiences it has catalogued. As the heart—filled with passion flowing, lips of course express the words of love. The hands place action to the physical of one's love to their own, given once by another. To a resting place, is a forest of ten thousand trees, Where sweet nothings echo into their final bite of one's words bark. So as the two make love, under the canopy of two's embrace— Seems the passionate partaking, wisps the morning energy for the day, and a reason to leave. Too passionate beings, two lovers making love. Under covenant, as the circling ring, she is his, as she calls to him. He greets her always with a wet kiss. It's bliss; ignorant forgetfulness. _"I forgot what we were even fighting about"_
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Aug 8, 2022
Aug 8, 2022 at 4:00 AM UTC
Passionate
To describe beauty—isn't by sight, rather insight. The mind is beautiful, a *** ***** pleasing of the know how it shows, of how much experiences it has catalogued. As the heart—filled with passion flowing, lips of course express the words of love. The hands place action to the physical of one's love to their own, given once by another. To a resting place, is a forest of ten thousand trees, Where sweet nothings echo into their final bite of one's words bark. So as the two make love, under the canopy of two's embrace— Seems the passionate partaking, wisps the morning energy for the day, and a reason to leave. Too passionate beings, two lovers making love. Under covenant, as the circling ring, she is his, as she calls to him. He greets her always with a wet kiss. It's bliss; ignorant forgetfulness. _"I forgot what we were even fighting about"_
OddOdysseyPoet
Written by
27/M/Zimbabwe
Aug 8, 2022
Aug 8, 2022 at 4:00 AM UTC
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