May 16, 2025
More in MosquitoBytes Volume 03: Ensanguined Quiescence - 2005 Quench
Amaranthine Fetish
I sit here Rampant as I think on you My mind enfolded in yours As our words collide Perverted from meaning Bereft of pain And through it all That smile remains Yet I don't think on our sex For then I would distract And though it would ease I'll live with tease © 2005, Mosquitobyte
|