Belly

Feeding is stressful for me, she is self conscious of her weight which is of an influence I am still investigating, I am with a valuable hint; dreams of force feeding that which she despises became her nightmare as the search for individuality brought her to the origin of me. Amber is the preservation of bodily fluids and flesh which our senses spiraled through the land of the dead searching for a place to rest; we are the finale of experience. I did indeed know a man who aspired for health through the battle of the excessive versus necessity; I do admit I never understood his triumph. We still are the war of perception; she is not a mistress of temptation other than Satan's. Food causes her abdomen physical discomfort, the digestive system will not completely cycle the particles without rejection; I do believe she could go without entirely yet I fear for her to die the death of perception which will surely be the end of us both.

Somebody please feed her; she knows not her body. Surely there is one who does....must I beg?

She is entertained by me to state the least. Yes we may indeed be the same person; the alter ego is illusive. I am madly in love with her; I am mad over hatred which attempts to grab her.

Her attire is that of a rebellious fable of fads; she is not inclined one way or another. Shock is her muse as she prances hand in hand with the devil. She wears that which I watch in desire of the part of me I could never touch. I want it bad.

Lingerie for me is my personal entertainment; I do not entertain anyone else or others. She does not feel for me in this aspect; lace on her body is only pleasure if the feeling is given. She desires touch of gentility to place the garment as ecstasy; this I know is wise of her however I am selfish. I want her all to my self. Damn....why is it I never get my way? She never does either. We are one in the same.

Our virginity....yours and mine....we know who we desire....how do we cross the line?