identity of sisterhood possesses my character shaped by nature lover of the moon attached to wild blowing winds
Absence weighs heavily on a wife with three children in tow but even that is better than life with a drunken bully
good men brave and true do not fear the leap into danger it is for women and children to sit home and quiver until the good men do not return
Somewhere there was a witch in the moonlight shadows fading a female slaving over lessons in love emasculating men to lose control of their own bodies placing pearls in his ears while stroking his thigh
A key penetrated the lock, turning in humid darkness, the ultimate masculinity brushed his long hair from his eyes and smiled for a fleeting moment, before the shadow passed and he plunged into me again.
The night before I turned six years old there was a big storm that rattled the house throughout the night. The loud thunder and flashes of lightning were so scary I wanted to sleep in Mum’s bed, but she said I should be brave now I was about to turn six. As I lay in…
Pink satin dress, delicate collar of lace, a fine gloved hand lay on his arm that was wrapped around my waist, fairy lights sparkled, the band took up a waltz, the room spun with diamonds as her voice sweetly sang a song of someone’s love, blue eyes softly shone, until cheeks turned red from blushing…