Blav, 1951| Stories Untold | Vintage Fashion

Updated: May 20, 2019

Feather wisps on my nipples.

The gate of pleasure is opening.

Realization is spreading outward.

A sturdy command whispered in my ear.

Tumbling into provocative islands and drowning icebergs.

Gagged by conformity and discovery.

Mundane advising reflects eternity.

Keep your head up precious willow.

The nine on my body breeds ownership.

His hands never leaves my neck and neither does my subconscious. — Drew Skyland

• Why do you fear to grow ? Do you compete to live ?

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