Being close is a journey through landscapes and interiors of passion and tenderness.
Kissing you was like taking a ride with windows wide open. views around were unfamiliar yet beautiful, as if we were travelling distant planet — and the warmth of your body merged with the heat of another sun. EACH BREATH BREAKING OUT OF YOUR CHEST RUSHED INTO MY EAR LIKE DESERT WIND.
as we caressed and undressed each other, time and space folded into a tiny black hole between us. Oh, it was dark, lustful and flammable, but turning into tender and sweet so easy.
i tasted your lips, your nipples, your prick as if they were tropical fruits—rare and wild, exquisite and flavorous food of passion. cars passing by, people on the street, roadworks noise merged into delicate sound of jungle forest, leaving you and me be far away.
The time itself was no MORE. the silent CREATURE, black FUR and white wHISKERS, was the only observer of patterns created of our bodies and scents, moans and murmurs.
In the morning you and i walked off little room into the light of a new day. The room was empty — but not for the lover's eyes: smears on walls and slits of the floor WERE the letters forming a story written in some carnal language.
