Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

I watched the angles of his face, struck by how disarming his dimples were. The candle flame let light dance around his features, like a forbidden dance flickering about rebelliously in the shadows of his beauty. His dark eyes, filled with the power of constellations and galaxies, probed me, and my breath, gone. He watched me, his lips kissing every single inch of my hands, as if memorizing every line, my skin scorched under his mouth.


-L

7-17-09

a beautiful love dance of words. you sing little bird