oldephebe
|
she who stood between the last breathes of night and the swirling pre-dawn mists of gray...shirtless, taut and a decade past seventeen and her breasts still high, still proud and she...yeah charasmatic candle to my death moths dirge..and Oh my..such unaffectation of affectation..she had me reeling on the edge of apostacy..true story.. what a figure of speech SHE was...
|
040416
|