If these words were the last ink I were about to bleed they'd surround you and caress you succumbing to your ever loving need they'd dance in your fullness flutter aloud in your grace graze upon the cherished crimson accentuating your precious face the type, bold with cursive mixed in would capitalize where all that beauty begins each curve christened and every form traced slowly oh so so slowly elegant words we'd embrace beheld in the contextual lingering of your eyes hearing accents accentuated with flowery reprise sentences will serve with orgasmic exchange as the pens erect position is neatly rearranged endearing a climatic exclamation wound before hitting send dipping into the well oiled well again and again