When the storm, overtakes
- Bev Flynn
- Sep 17, 2018
- 1 min read

Horizon.. gone her instinct, raw the quickened press, of palms to ravishings.. of rain her lips, imbibe an innocence swallowing.. the chaste. Stand.. in the illusion deflecting, off your skin. On broody days it's all you can face when the storm, overtakes
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