Sinful Creation
- Age: 24
- Skype: pandaraverdiva
- AOL Messenger: LiteratureOrgasm
- Location: United States
- Joined: 17 Dec 2010
- Last Visited: 05 Mar 2012
- Total Posts: 460
- 0% of total / 0.87 posts per day
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About Sinful Creation
o I am sarcasm [mostly politely so] incarnate 80% of the time. The other 20%, when I am nice/affectionate, I blame on sleep deprivation.
o I have this odd tendency to rant about movies made in the 80s at inopportune moments.
o The way I look is very much at odds with my personality.
o I have this fascination with things that a lot of people find horrifying.
o I love to write. Won't claim to be good, but I try my best. Hit me up for some RP.
o I dig both sexes. Each gender has so many different facets of beauty to explore.
o The texture of tapioca makes me gag.
o I dislike with a fiery passion when people take advantage of other people who know no better.
o I am a great friend.
o I am told I am intimidating. This baffles me.
o I enjoy meeting new people. Message me, yes?
Like silk to the touch, oh how I remember.
Limpid pools of endless depth, the purest of blue,
Putting the clearest of skies to shame, oh how I remember.
Crimson lips, a temptation in the flesh.
A forbidden kiss under the canopy of a solitary oak.
A taste, just a little one, a touch.. Oh, to linger on
That silken skin.. A soft touch, a gentle kiss…
Forbidden love.
A quiet gasp, a gentle finger upon lips so soft.
A whispered murmur of eternal love, a haze of happiness before
Those blue hues look away from those dark eyes with a murmur of
P a s s i o n a t e longing. Those lovers, those lovers whom fate has tried to
Keep from one another part with the pledge to meet again,
Under that solitary oak tree.
That solitary oak tree, no longer alone,
Leaves fluttering in the gentle breeze.
A canopy of thick leaves sheltering the dark eyed form.
A b r o k e n sigh of the deepest s o r r o w falls from
That forlorn figure. Silence, no laughter, no purity.
Roses, boasting a deeper shade than the freshest of blood
Hang limply from barely grasping fingers. Petals brushing the
Ground, torn by tiny rocks as they are moved to and fro.
Soft fingertips sliding over pale lips, oh how I remember.
Heated breath sending shivers along the curve of that one’s back,
Oh how I remember.
A dark eyed figure stands a l o n e under that towering oak tree.
Roses, petals softer than newly made satin fall to the ground as the sun rises,
Shining on the lone figure under that old oak tree. That soft laugh that lights up those
Pure blue eyes, oh how I remembered as I waited.. Yet that fair one did not return
As promised in that d u l c e t voice that would have caused an angel to weep in awe.
An anguish unknown until that moment overtaking those
Dark eyes like storm clouds conquering the sky. Why. Whispers
A voice stained with forlorn need. Why.
The dark eyed one makes his way away from that beautiful spot.
That place for lovers. That place forever marked by that solitary oak tree...
Oh, how I remember those lips of temptation...
Tresses golden and more precious to me than any
Treasure. Oh, how I remember those soft gasps as we lie tangled in the throes of passion
Under that solitary oak.. Oh, yes.. I remember your words of undying love...
But...Even more so.. How I remember the moment my heart s t o p p e d beating...
When you did not return to me, my love...My precious one.. My E V E R Y T H I N G....
Oh, how I remember.. Remember that day...
