Kissing the echoes of an era

 

Kissing the echoes of an era-Cane

The whistle on the air as every stroke is drawing its way,

the soft moan hidden between the lips after each hit,

the lingering tears that never left the eyes.

Devoted echo kissed by the cane.

Kissing the echoes of an era - Weights.

A dumb pain, as an introduction for the next to came,

a twisted body, claiming for a release.

And again, the outstanding endurance that flows from the will to belong.

She does.

 Kissing the echoes of an era. The most absolute possesion I ever felt. The bright of the will. 

The sharp and excruciating pain as a prelude of the most absolute pleasure.

Again, She Is.

A kiss, again.