Bookworm. Poet. Story-teller.
A paroxysm to sire. A wanderlust, a desire. Soledad, I come home. Wish for a glass of Merlot and dream of Rome ♥ Following my mind, you pull me close ‘Leave behind the mires’, you urge me so. ♥ In the dark of the room, you lead me on. Tease me, seduce me, on the desk, then…
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her world shrinks as faces cease to exist days lack brightness nights miss the glow walks become rambles blank are the thoughts no place is desirable just she and herself behind shut doors are windows closed and the solitary corner beckoning her not a speck of light in the gloomy room except a flickering lamp at…
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Asha Seth 