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February 21, 2014
Are we talking - with our knees, arms, eyes, and lips? These touches - are they equally deliberate as they are accidental? When you breathe my scent, does the blood rush through your veins like a sea facing the perfect storm?

My aura is around me, in a shade of bright crimson of a bloody lips. Mine, my bloody lips. Which you couldn't help biting in your ecstasy. It's the color of a passionate love. The embodiment of a being at the interface of lust and sacrifice. It roars as the pressure is released, it's core throbbing in manic rhythms beyond reason.