Original sin
Touching you
your lips are like feathery clouds
your tongue taste like lapse of joy
I want to drown in it.
Your grey eyes that draw me to you
each feature carved perfectly
we are few inches from each other
I can feel your breath on my neck
breathing in each other's scent
I want you
all...
your lips are like feathery clouds
your tongue taste like lapse of joy
I want to drown in it.
Your grey eyes that draw me to you
each feature carved perfectly
we are few inches from each other
I can feel your breath on my neck
breathing in each other's scent
I want you
all...