P
By Gwion
This is Ecstasy: that blue which fills my mouth your smell on my tongue each groping hair stringy and stiff all scales a fortress an ice cube shivering my fingers that Blue which freezes in my eyes your twisting frenzy a rhythm of fire a husk that still smells of you flakes off my body goose-down that Blue which washes the sands frothing and clean thundering across my plains: Horses this is Ecstasy. Written January 17th, 2002 © on Jan 17 2002 10:05 AM PST 18 • 0 • 8
AI analysis available. Enable JavaScript to interact.
About this line
"This is Ecstasy:..."