Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don’t know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings.
Haven’t written in a while.
I’m barely even posting pictures or reblogs.
I guess I’ve been going through some thangsss, but I’m going to find it in me to get rebalanced.
If you actually read what I post, I’m very thankful for you.. regardless of a like and/or a reblog.
But I’ll be back to normal soon. Bible.
I can still taste her.
Drunk on the palette of my tongue as my motions pinpointed her soul;
Ooh’s & Ahh’s translating themselves of liquid fashion and she reached
peaks of joy; Thanking me with every roll of her hips….