...she said to him that her bed is a boat and that his voice is the wind that sends her sailing over the dark star sprinkled night sky towards pleasure
....they move together, called silently by love and desire and needs un-fullfilled. They move with the same rhythm, sinuous and sensual, heartbeats become drumbeats and their breathing becomes music
....she told him that the poetry would always be remembered, she would tattoo it on her soul and sing it at sunrise to remind herself each day that she was loved.
*by sweetmango*
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