¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯
"O my dearest,
darling, bijou,
born the silver
worker's daughter,
"how so fortunate
mine eyes
to witness thine
palatial wonder!
"Mine pleasure t'would
to take hold and
to pick the fruits
among your vine—
"the shyest heart
of rose hips what
has pewter cruxes
bold t'shine!
"And as eyes and
I pay credit
to a distent,
nearing nimbus..
"These gem'nate
tongues b'twine as
oaken staves—
the Brav'ra Lingus!"
(..she responds,)
"Mine auburn falls
for thee, my dove,
but thy fervence, once
to mine, abates?"
"Quite, my dear..
"tho, ginger trapped
in tantric bond
what's sweetness, rare
n'a boon, belates!"
"..well, then
please use a ******,"
she said.
﹊
To:
my love—
my dearest
darling,
Sarah-mine
❦
Ɛ> ~mushes~ <3
﹊
∘ ⊱‧⌍ ⌈✞⌋ ⌌‧⊰ ∞
﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋
