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Pouring of Wax
Pouring of Wax
You came to the side of the bed and sat staring at me. Then you kissed me, and I felt hot wax on my forehead. I want it to leave a mark, that is how I knew I loved you.
Because I wanted it to burn, stamped, to have something in the end. I drew the gown over my head, a red flush covered my face and shoulders.
It will run its course, the course of fire setting a cold coin on my forehead, between the eyes. You lay beside me your hand moves slowly over my face as if you had felt it also you must have known, then, how I wanted you.
As we will always know that this is the proof of our true love.
You came to the side of the bed and sat staring at me. Then you kissed me, and I felt hot wax on my forehead. I want it to leave a mark, that is how I knew I loved you.
Because I wanted it to burn, stamped, to have something in the end. I drew the gown over my head, a red flush covered my face and shoulders.
It will run its course, the course of fire setting a cold coin on my forehead, between the eyes. You lay beside me your hand moves slowly over my face as if you had felt it also you must have known, then, how I wanted you.
As we will always know that this is the proof of our true love.
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