my impermanent mind

My gaze explored the flash, in years of pondering the sweet vision of shrouded cunt, stolen from time, permanently etched in my impermanent mind, tickled and prodded, tested and sold, not to be forgotten easily. Tiny pink flowers marked the connection of elastic and fabric and the flesh beneath, her own pretty pink flower.

Lord Malinov, Song of Songs

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About Lord Malinov

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