vision’s illusions

She played with herself in the bask of pure sunshine, taking the light and the heat as her unrestrained lover, and I thought to myself, “surely she sees me,” and she moved at times toward me as though she knew I was there, but I wouldn’t have moved if I could from fear for the vision’s illusions, unbelieving and still holding my heated hot breath.

Lord Malinov, Journals of Lord Malinov

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About Lord Malinov

Lord Malinov, literary author, bon vivant, rogue romantic poet
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