Now that I have recovered from 'your' illness, I need a rest that never ends.

Janaina Medeiros
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@0blivate-voice
Now that I have recovered from 'your' illness, I need a rest that never ends.

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I'd love to watch her aura from a distance for if I touch her she'd disapper from my sight lest be assured I'd just drop down if she's nowhere to be reflected on my eye. For I've made an imagery that things could go uphill with the mentality 'that things can survive just by talking at the right hour'.
How she sips on her evening tea when everything's at dawn and the only ephemeral source is the horizon reflecting on her tea.
I'd like to be her muse, for if there's anything I want to feel it'd be her morality. I'd love to know how she fathoms her evenings on a shadow stricken day, how she plays with her mind in this chaotic numbness
Love transcends time, space. The prospect of being with someone isn't bout the physicality. It isn't bout how she makes me feel, it isn't bout how she lingers on my conscience.

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Sex is cool, but have you ever been in love?
Yes, she's real in me, in my daydream, in my ache, in my dusty attic.
She rather cleans my heart than to throw it in a bag full of delusion.
The dust gathers round my chamber(heart), for my catapulous ache is so unhinged by her presence.
She dwells in my attic, the cobwebs are made up of her hair, silky and dusty.

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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The immiscible laughter together, the summer waves where I'd tuck your hair by the side of your ear, the little butterflies that we'd get just by looking at each other. Our remnant was like a November Rain, the years almost over and the rain droplets always eavesdropped on our muse."
I write to portray how much variation life has got.
It's just her and her and her.
..
....
I'm that Tree.
Just as the samplings grew into a mistic coordination of integrity and hope that it will be getting a trunk of his own, a amalgamation of luck and struggle to endure the life, the tree lost its meaning in this soily eroded hemisphere. Not because it lost the struggle for existence but the will to overcome the long trauma that it has perciviered through its tenure is a vile entity, maybe the reasons were vanished on a drought season or maybe someone butchered their mentally dilapidated juxtaposition of willpower and hope.
Traveling in a train makes me elevated bout the fact that how objects round me runs past me in a wink.
Maybe I'm that deluded tree with no urge to regenerate new seasons leaf which always has a personal history to be left behind like a long gust of wind that never comes back yet percieves a dilapidated vision of someone which soothes it.

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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I still remember the time we had. Maybe, time was our luck which always gets exhausted and never returns.
I loved you.
I'm just a blue in the frame,hovering above her tinker colored rainbow,her evergreen lashes. The ponds were her eye to which the reflection of my deluded self becomes omniscient. The winds were her hands smoothering round my every bare inch. The forest were her heart for which I'd like to dwell upon. But, she was a dream that became a behemoth of my imagination.
Her sorrows have always worried me, her smile has always given the altruistic happiness if not of my own happiness. Yes, she's real in the day dream that I'm dreaming for the last few millennia.
Yes she's real.