spewing bronze elves

I walked the garden paths, past the fountain with spewing bronze elves, past the bust of a greenish benefactor with an aquiline nose and a crusty forehead. The grass gleamed in the wash of warm air, tickling shades of light and green. A young student, a girl, sat cross-legged on the hill side, a book nestled comfortably in her lap, her face turned up radiantly to bask in the sun’s shine. My thoughts paused for a moment as I tried to imagine what words lay in such intimate proximity to the girl’s heart, and smiled as I caught a glimpse and with an expert’s eye recognized the short lines of verse. Nipples erected ever so slightly behind her thin shirt, and I sauntered past, wishing I were younger or bolder or somehow knowing.

Lord Malinov, Erotic Romances

About Lord Malinov

Lord Malinov, literary author, bon vivant, rogue romantic poet
This entry was posted in books, fiction, literature, novels, quotes, reading, short stories, writing. Bookmark the permalink.

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