the other.

She sighed out in contentment.

“This is perfection.” She thought as she shifted closer to his strong, warm body.

The night loomed outside the bedroom.

Stars shone.

The wind blew quietly through the open window and whispered in her ear, “Perfection, my dear? In the morning he will not be yours.”

Wednesday Jun 6 @ 04:32pm
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tagged as: love. poetry. writing. contentment.

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