vision’s illusions

She played with herself in the bask of pure sunshine, taking the light and the heat as her unrestrained lover, and I thought to myself, “surely she sees me,” and she moved at times toward me as though she knew I was there, but I wouldn’t have moved if I could from fear for the vision’s illusions, unbelieving and still holding my heated hot breath.

Lord Malinov, Journals of Lord Malinov

About Lord Malinov

Lord Malinov, literary author, bon vivant, rogue romantic poet
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