This was the eventual pièce de résistance when I saw you organically alter my genre which was irresistibly platonic to metaphorically an aroused state slowly my heart could melt away towards our bodies an unplanned appetite to say the least when I undressed your emotions and devoured all that was for me it was as if I forgot my verity and caressed you as this was it and no other day would come for me to twist my senses simply put, we made love in the sweetest ways I could define the objectivity got stolen away in the moments of no-mind state it was all about you and me and nothing else would entertain me at that time and place the collusion was it inevitable? the way your hair fell on half of your upper neck and touched your breasts a little could I have shut my eyes? I really don't know when it was all over and I woke up at a different place I still realized that it was not a dream it was something that lay at the back of my soul was it something I desired all through? I wish I
verses and conflicts of the soul