If I die today, How many unwritten poems Will die with me? Will the words I won't speak Bounce between these walls, Locked up in this box I call a body? Or will they fly away until they find another host? Will they reach those Who need to hear them? @juanspeaks

Beautiful Me

I just want to feel beauty. I love the whisper of silk against skin with secrets all it's own. Or the soft vibrancy of velvet tickling the senses. The soft hunting of lace, feminine and haunting, just framing all my pretty little edges. Or just simple cotton, to relax and not question that it's just a piece of all I can be.