In love, holding,
Finally, heart-to-heart with the one he loves.
He kisses whisper soft.
Slow lips graze on warm flesh
Lying languid in the sultry room
His tongue ignites a passion when the trail he paints
Cools in the faint breeze that moves the gauzy curtain.
"Is that good? Better there? Should I use my mouth? My hand?"
Kisses stop his questions and the coupling begins
While sunlight paints his lover's scars.
In a moment in time and space, they come together,
Vash arches back ecstatic
Like an angel in free-fall
Wolfwood, ruined with love, enfolds him again.
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