old sport

Let’s talk magic; let’s talk love, let’s talk gibberish and a bit of sport.d

So many words unwritten, stories never told, loves lost and never found.

Situations. Cries smothered by pillows. Harrowing tales never believed.

No one feels your pain for you. Pain equated. Pangs of regret. What ifs.

Love; a myth, the known unknown, the smallest voice that makes it major.

Stories of eyes, heavy eyes. Days of dust. Forgiveness less forgetfulness. Unrelenting.

Head alongside heart. Spirit painted gold, hands raised high. Legs, the same. Tip goads.

Rains on the window pane. Count me in. Tingles in this silly place. The right places.

Undercover staying dry and warm. Adored nose kisses. Wherever, whenever.

Smiles. Stolen stares at your spumy face. Feelings. This is us. Blendy. This is us.

Once again it’s my soul. When all is lost and I lose control. I always know, it’s you. It is.

What we found, an epithet for Love. For you make me smile, time after time.

Been awake from this slumber now. It’s the soul again. It’s the story never written.

Those bites, bite your best friend like chocolate. Go on, go go. Car smells like cigarettes and cum. Go.

Hair still smell like coconut cum and chocolate and cum and more chocolate.

Steamy windows. Friends calling. Lips bitten. Marks left. Mental photographs.

Memories

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