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For a DateI would like to go somewhere where I could hear you talk,
Hear you tell me everything that ever mattered to you,
And if you enjoy making out under the moonlight,
I would then like to ask you to do it again.
I would like to cuddle your hand to my chest,
Curl your hair around my sleeves,
Wipe the snow from your eyes,
And flower that little smile to soften your lips.
And I love to feel your soft lips on me,
Emotions behind everything you whisper in my ears,
Happiness in every one of your silly smiles,
Touching the spark in me that is now completely yours.
ResilienceWhen I was young, I loved to watch my father work. I used to think sparks were dangerous, so I would sit far enough away that the fire could not reach me. But I could still feel the heat, watching sparks rise high into the smoky air.
I was terrified of darkness. I would sleep with a candle burning to protect me, but shadows invaded my dreams. I pretended I was a dragon, filled with flames. Fearless.
No one believes in dragons anymore. No one believes in fire, either. I've grown up into the age of electricity, where fire is too hot and too wild to touch. Why risk burning yourself when light and heat are ready at the flip of a switch? It's much safer to shiver in the glow of civilization than to risk getting burnt.
The lights of cities surround me, outshining the stars. The mess of humanity clusters around the light like moths. They're all just afraid of the dark. I think back to the years I spent pretending to be brave.
When I was young, I loved to watch my mother light
Leaving Southampton She was in the kitchen when he stumbled in noisily, tripping as he went past the shelves and catching the edge of the table to keep himself from falling.
Pretending not to hear the stream of curses that followed, she kept her eyes fixed on the dishes, letting her hand trail in the soapy water. There was a loud scraping of wood against grimy concrete as he drew a chair and collapsed into it. At this she looked up, and after a moment's hesitation, she said, unnecessarily, "You've been drinking."
He clutched his head and said nothing. He hadn't shaved in weeks and stank of sweat and alcohol; he looked much older than his eighteen years.
They sat in silence for a while. Then he announced, loudly, "Fuck."
She didn't bother to tell him off. She just waited. And jumped when he suddenly brought his fist down, hard, onto the table.
"Our lives here are s
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^Nyx-Valentine arrived in our community and started whipping everyone into a frenzy with her relentless desire to bring the Artistic Nude and Fetish galleries to the fore. 9 years later, and it's safe to say that Nyx is not only a leader as a photographer in these galleries, but she has also established herself as a much saught after model. ^... Read More