The Depths of Her Sixteenth Century Mars

Tangerine the scene spilling through this green glass Crossing her thighs as she bathes inside, love's afterglow.. Dare I let Ginger go, knowing insatiable her hunger ? Staring outside the window and, a sudden knock upon Their red door deja vu it seems, I have been here before Familiar, this scent ? While she peers; moors moon brushed Aside midnight blue as carmine hues, filling her eyes ah but time To loose these binds when their ladies enter ? Smiling in tune Slowly slipping as sliding across, her fiery flesh glowing amid natures Splendours and she, bending forward inquiring unto that my heart.... All I could think of although were Shakespeare they, reaching for her arching Screams renaissance recapturing ? A stained-glass reflection quoting Macbeth as I pierced.