Subtitled: Shadow, to be loved and observed.
With her dark angelic wings, slightly folded behind her innocently white, curvaceous figure, glowing within a tremendous presence, and from her eyes, of distant storms, so endlessly observant, she murmured, sordidly, into his desperately hairy ear, listening profoundly: "While it always exists a possibility of tomorrow, thy work is, although, never ending. Be mindful, darling, for what thou wish thy true."
There has been no shade that followed her, not down, below, nor from above, on grounds, but trembling as from an unseen force, throughout, by her and from her levitating disappearance. Surrender!
Forevermore it resembled every single possible moment that ever happened. Everything was hers.
And he was, in that passing moment, but a little scar that bloodhed kindly, on her fleshy lips, by her sharp bite, but for a moment a single drop, deserving a single kiss. Was it blood? Her tongue.
It all but disappears.
In all the acts of civil disobedience, tomorrow belongs to her.
#actsofdisobedience #bloodhetdkindly #possibilityoftomorrow