A small, tan coloured book, completely unadorned. The binding is worn and aged, the pages slightly tattered and curling towards the edges. Several small notes peek out here and there from between the sheaves of parchment and pieces of torn blue silk mark places within.
Thursday, 15 November 2007
The scent to tempt you away
The breath you steal from my chest
The heat of the dancers at play
The blood of dangers caress
Ahh they led him a merry dance I hope..entertained him, allowed him to feel, if only briefly. Such seemingly simple things. Senses, breath, warmth and blood.. but they are real. Not like emotions we profess to have, but then change on a whim as we do with so many other things in life. They are the simple things that make a simple woman. Thats all I ever want to be, a simple woman that understands herself.
Celestia posted @ 04:45 -
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