| Behold. Upon the marble, I wept here in the temple. I had myself bound for years in celibacy, in solitude. Albeit within these walls stirs a different story. She plays around me intangible to the naked eye. Her form soluble in my hands. As each night I take her, in my arms and mold her into that which holds dominion over my desires... I shudder when she whispers yes, despite my uncertainty. For I fear I might break her this time, as I push further into capacity. Saltillo, remember me. My limbs are bound to you willingly, and I drink only the nectar that drips from your lips. Your scent grips me, And I whisper only mercy, mercy. As you open into me when I come for you. |
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