distant sounds of
the boisterous creek
the crackling fire’s
flickering flames holding my gaze
distilling my crowded thoughts
smell of cinnamon sticks
transporting me to tranquil
wrapped in the arms of love
nibbles along jawline to earlobes
controlled exhale of passion’s breath
the warmth of the fire no match
for the fire you stir within
PR
10/11/15
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I can feel this.
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That’s good to hear, thank you.
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Excellent!
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Thank you Dorna.
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