The Sweet, innocent...yet no different.
Unique at first sight...yet there's no difference.The hazel windows revealing a cold soul.In the epicentre, a cold winter in a dark pit, opening and closing, opening and.Blood red lips where fibs slip, truths broken, reality shown after a sip from the flammable substance.Corruptness. Sweet and innocent but no more.Damsel in distress urging to impress, in her blue satin dress, but not the soft silk as you would think.Gets deeper, lingerie holding her firm breast, whisked around, the black polyester stretches to her 4th base.But that's all on the Turkish tapestry, some of it is torn, her heart too is scorned, pillows damp.Tears of joy in another sense.If this makes sense.She's making cents, with regrets, she let her prized gift be caressed, pounded, bruised, succeeding a transaction and...she's on her way.Sweet and innocent...yet no different.Unique at first sight but there's no difference.