This spider web is sticky with lust, catching its prey and wrapping them up tight, another morsel for the night.
I find my self caught and relax in the pleasure of captivity.
This penniless luxury is all to addictive.
A life lived like a modern libertine, I find my morals running thin when debauchery is so strong with in.
Vitality pulses in every pore across my flesh and I have never felt so close to death.
Silver explosions in the blackness night a call to lovers light.
Our bodies seem to be molded to one another, a strange familiarity an echo of what could be.
Passion, bliss and lose of innocence …the world is folding in a crumbling of sin.
(Source: theswinginsixties, via astralsilence)