manifest destiny
My furtive time of hope has left.
Closed in, and heeled on by a roughed in face.
One whose eyes catch the sideways glance of the 6 o'clock light.
Gifting and pinking my cheeks with thick hearted kisses, dressing down my thoughts, slipping and silking into a heat dark sweet. One whose hands do the things my furtive time of hope had stayed for.
Closed in, and heeled on by a roughed in face.
One whose eyes catch the sideways glance of the 6 o'clock light.
Gifting and pinking my cheeks with thick hearted kisses, dressing down my thoughts, slipping and silking into a heat dark sweet. One whose hands do the things my furtive time of hope had stayed for.