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a return sacrosanct of whispering.


  
Take my grace
and bend me  
to thy will  
   
Surely  
you know  
   
It's of yours.    
   
That    
desire's  
hands  
b e c k o n  
   
Thoughts  
and wants  
traveling  
   
racing    
   
beating  
   
faster  
   
and  
faster  
   
still  
   
Anticipation  
becomes religion
 
   
as  
I    
kneel before  
anxiously  
illuminated    
in pure    
need    
   
Coveting    
stolen moments  
lips licked—  
O' how my taste  
is sweeter than
 
   
As wishes  
become time  
in pause  
stopped for  
their    
chances caught  
   
Chances  
of souls ablaze  
in purposeful
drive  
permeating    
to    
marrow    
   
Every    
millisecond  
Every    
slight touch  
are lips dying  
for sustenance  
   
A desperate  
requiring    
of  
a whispered  
command  
   
is air  
and  
life itself...    
   
as he's the one,  
   
....  
   
   
the one I wait for.    
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
Bluevelvete
Written by Bluevelvete
Published
Author's Note
© Blu2021
Random morning thoughts today.
✨ 💫 ✨
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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