Posted by Fillin on January 25, 19100 at 06:01:26:
"J"
His fresh young features not yet sharpened or marred by age or aggresion spoke volumes to innocence.
One short look, a glance, would be the catalyst to slay my soul for his ever more.
He looks. I melt. He smiles, I swoon. Why surely his touch would entomb
This head of mine so full of his presence leaps to attention while he shifts his status
The hand of a "god" he reaches to me, accepting, we meld as one
These gentle pleasures so sweet to share, of holding and hugging and knowing ones love.
Forever so smitten, we greive to part ways, but parting is not real, for whats inside renews.
fillin