(Untitled)

[nickoftime]

The sinful whisper of skin on skin, secret language of the night, is sometimes the only way we communicate anymore. You've lost the passion, brother, the fire, and I watch you drift away. My words mean nothing to you, our dreams, our purpose. We've been the same through eons, too many languages to count were shared between us. Now this is all we

Comments

[andre_korda]

Bravo! These are both very nice drabbles. Thank you for sharing them.

[nickoftime]

*Bow* :)