Eden 2020-2021
by: Chelsea Bacci my lover twirls grace and beauty between her fingers. her copper hair falls like willow branches against her cheeks. her breath flows like wind through a valley. i could liken her to flowers but they hold no candle to her. she moves like a river gentle slow and flowing. i understand now the desire that Eve had that day in Eden aching to feel the sweet nectar of the forbidden sweet fruit flow down her chin and to her breast wanting to taste what she never could have. and, God, did it feel good.
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