Submissions by Silvercrest (Christopher)

I search for some relic
In her fickle colours
But all i see is her future
  
Some distant death cry  
Of an unsuspecting fox
Its fur destined for  vanity
  
A barren landscape
the decadence of charred oaks
With some only left to dream of flowers
On the moon.
 
 
 
  
    

My lips and tongue takes control
My mind slips into a world of fantasy
Sliding on silky warm skin approaching nipple
I fall into silence
My fingers gently rubbing her clit up and down

Her moaning
My fingers reach into her softly.
Did she understand my language?
Did she find something she needed?
Was this spiritual?