Am I beautiful?
She amusedly asked
He couldn`t
resist, and blasted like a laughter machine gun
She wrapped
him around, and punched him, in banter
Come on,
tell me, she persisted
No, you are not,
what are you going to do about it?, he
said with a stark blank face, as if a kid dropped an ice-cream, and no one is
there to hear him cry, and momentarily he embraces in clamor
I feel beautiful,
she adamantly said, when I am with you
"You-
Am I a source of grace, to magnify and paint someone beautiful, even if there
are weak, ugly and soiled from interior?
She heard
him, with a dopey eyes, and rested self in the asymmetrical dimension of her
own confusion and confidence
As she lifts
her soul, she felt like giving away, an alliance with gravity, to soar up high.
She whispered,
her words flutter from her saucy red lips, as she dropped her cloths, as he fix
his eyes on her taut breasts
Her words, elixir
soaked, wafts like a waterdrop could on a barren hot land, and the evanescence lost,
Guest itself
into his pious souls and interlocks
I am the
womb, I am the source of life, I am the beauty, I am the ugliness, I am the finite
and infinite
We are gods!
Narcissus replied
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