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Spring Wind (Ode) by William Delacroix
i had never known true beauty until i saw her. her olive skin, hair and eyes impenetrably black. the moment we first met, spring wind crawled across my skin, simultaneously stimulating every nerve (/organ/) of my body. i needed her like a simile needs a conjunction. i took her to a place where no one could follow us, a place where fantasies (/nightmares/) become reality. the scent of her hair and the taste of her skin (/sex/) were all that mattered. i have never made love to (/raped/) anyone comparable to her. my flesh ached with desire and longing, but she was mine; she gave herself to me. as i tasted her nectars (/sweat/tears/saliva/blood/), the wind coursed through me. she stays here now, never needing to leave (/no escape/chains/binding). from time to time i visit her, run my fingers across her silky smoothness. she is still as young (/tight/) as ever; time does not move forward in this place. i think i too will stay here for awhile (/fuck her/anally/til she bleeds/ ). the wind is so warm; her words (/stop/don't/it hurts/help/) are more beautiful than any music, the sounds flowers would make if they could speak as they bloomed. when i slide myself (/ram my cock/) inside her, the wind carries her (/ to orgasm/whether she likes it or not/), and the gentle warmth of my love fills her (/i shoot my load in her ass/). my spring wind is perpetual. it will never die.

Up the ladder: Ohio's Dirty Natives
Down the ladder: Ghost of Gloaming

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Arithmetic Mean: 6.2
Weighted score: 5.1430435
Overall Rank: 5384
Posted: September 15, 2003 6:46 PM PDT; Last modified: September 15, 2003 6:46 PM PDT
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Comments:
[8] nentwined @ 192.168.0.254 | 16-Sep-03/7:12 AM | Reply
well done, overall; I really like the form you used here. perhaps too blatant throughouht, and "time does not move forward in this place" made me think you had killed her, while later lines disabused this notion.

thoughts.
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