Something no memory could retain and no poet ever evoke. Like nectar and ambrosia. Like an oasis in the Sahara. Like a wish for a dead man. With a des...air that has no time for playful licks, your tongue reaches for her deepest. Your teeth rip hard against her pulsing clit. She rewards you with a moan and her hand passes without kindness through your hair.There is power in her pleasure. A warmth that radiates through your chest, awakes feelings long lost. You seek, you need more. Your lips. No trace of the day’s trials and tribulations remain, only on the cotton wool in the waste paper basket. After a time she stirs in the silence of a spell. Then she breathes, but the cool, cotton sheets have given way to gardens, where roses breathe poems. She idly reflects over the sweet, sonnets of scent, as above her, the leaves swirl like green hearts in the gentle summer breeze. The sun’s caresses inflame her bare skin, but the cruel breeze sighs: “Is it enough?” As her eyes drop to the. More

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