I don’t want the kind of love that looks good in daylight.
I want the kind that finds me when I’m unraveling.
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I want the kind that finds me when I’m unraveling.
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It starts quietly. A thought. A memory. The shape of you crossing my mind for one second too long.
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The first time that I had attracted an embodied man into my field changed me as a woman, mother and my views and beliefs of men and masculine energy.
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Because being taken is one thing. Being slowly, tenderly undone is another.
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Erase the footprints of you that I left tattooed on your skin. Delete the memories that make you sigh, and in the midst of them an "I love you" exhale.
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And there will be someone who will say that we have too many gestures
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Lying on the bed looked her legs barely covered by a towel only her brazier and her lace lingerie and beside the messy white sheets, in the background the mirror of her dressing room, some furniture of her clothes and belongings to the sides, then she showed me in her fingers the divine contour from below her waist to her knee and back up to go crazy, to light the fire in my veins, so that the volcano of my desires raise its temperature to the boiling point.
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that's why I'm not a saint Evilness kills that's why I'm not that bad
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I feel you... Deep inside of me... Like a flame that burns me...
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How to know a man really love ❤️ you during sèx...✍🏽
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... Then she stripped off slowly, almost asking permission to his own body propio. Shy, insecure of herself. He stood in front of the mirror, as a small act of courage, and stared at himself, checking out something he had long condemned.
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I don't know if I'm vulnerable or if my body is getting closer to it not to think of you and make the memories and wounds you left less painful. I'm not sure about a lot of things, in fact I'm not clear if I'm still in love with you or it was just a habit that I mistook for love.
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