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Thoughts of you ~ Germaine Paris

2/27/2014

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Picture
001

Lay your eyes on my eyes and upon this silver coin of mine; watch them both melt foolishly. You must be in tire awake for the nights of crescent moons, sipping the luminescence off the palest petals of the night blooming. And they, in adoration, whisper in your direction to meet your thirst. I know, for when gazing up above at such an hour do my eyes ever soften.

002

Palms met by varying ground, now both coarse and softened in, and fingers bent in such a permanence, in consequence to the grips and holds of habitual necessity. Let me hold your hand, and with only a turn of the forearm, show me your wrist. Kissable. Between these lips and the very outermost of you, it will forever be a custom, and endearment, for the sake of luck that our sense of touch will never be lost.

-Germaine Paris
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