Lestat (flambeauvivant) wrote,

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This little thread is a slow intoxicant that brings such sweet longing. My fingers close on air. Sometimes you are my breath in winter, fleetingly warm, a wisp of something pale, a smile on the breeze. Sometimes you materialize sharp and vibrant. I laugh and find you just as suddenly vanished. Your gaze slithered past me tonight. Wickedly wakeful I can almost feel your tail twitching.
Tags: love, lust
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