Random Thoughts
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| (C) Privy Trifles |
:Translation:
I lit lamps in my house after many days, perhaps the light of your memories has finally started dwindling.
Metro Diaries: The Art of Making Love
Image Source: Unpexels (Cottonbro) “Do you know why is it called making love?” He whispered, pulling the comforter closer. I don’t remember for how long we had been in that room, on that bed. Lying aimlessly, just feeling each other in silence. I managed to just whimper to denote my curiosity. “Because that is the moment we create love. We are the closest we could ever be to love, in its purest form. It is sheer magic as we are naked, in every form. Mentally, physically and emotionally before that one person, we love. We know they can hurt us, as much as they want to, in the way they want to. But love gives us that power to trust them, that they won’t.” “And here I was thinking it is a need. Something you want at that moment and you get it!”
