Then there’s the way her body glides in motion. Those hurried contractions of her muscles. Pulling, stretching its ligaments. There’s something there which he craves. Something alive.
There is, of course, nothing like the way papers rumple and cringe beneath the embrace of the ends of her fingers.
Great imagery.
The vivid sphere of vermillion stands beside its own shadow as it desperately struggles to retrieve its original form.
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There is, of course, nothing like the way papers rumple and cringe beneath the embrace of the ends of her fingers.
Great imagery.
The vivid sphere of vermillion stands beside its own shadow as it desperately struggles to retrieve its original form.
Awww, poor House!Ball. *wink*
Like a prey. She is unaware.
*thud* Sign me up!
Mmmmm, H/C showersex. Hey, I can dream, kay?
Nice stuff! Very poetic, as usual... ;)
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Haha, I actually meant for some kind of symbolism. But hey, everyonething needs sympathy :3
Mmmmm, H/C showersex. Hey, I can dream, kay?
Yes that's exactly the reaction I was hoping for. You make up the rest with your imagination ;)
Nice stuff! Very poetic, as usual... ;)
Oh God. Really? It's still poetic? @_@; I thought I cut back on that! *laughs* oh well ;)
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Works for me. I have a dirty imagination, heheh.
Really? It's still poetic? @_@; I thought I cut back on that!
Hey, I like it! Most people around here (including myself) do straight prose. Why should you conform? We all need a little poetry in our lives... ;)
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