Bella
The controlled pageantry
The longing; natural, pure
She waits, wondering
When will he know?
Maybe, on his own
The truth revealed as he lay, breathless
Undeniable fear
He remains sickened by her truth
Wanting purity, hes a glimmer
Engorged, filthy she sighs
In the end, bella...
Copyright © Gerri Carman | Year Posted 2013
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