ConsolationOur memory was burned in the adoration of her body.Buttocks made of honey; we understood we couldn’tdivulge our secret preparations while we expected anothermisfortune to occur. Ticking of clocks lingered betweenbay and peninsula, tide that raised all our hope, littlejasmine flowers, fragrant nuptials twice experienced.Heart beats, anticipation, until the new gathering wasannounced and we run […]
Übermensch
penwithlit 