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BLUE SUN ROOM FILK
No, not that Summer, but just because it's hot ...
CATEGORY: FILK TIMES READ: 1824 RATING: 9 SERIES: FIREFLY
I know she isn’t real
This woman standing before me
Her dress made from spider’s webs and sunlight
Moonbeams and morning dew
Lifting and swirling in the slight evening breeze
Out here in the shaven fields
Where the smell of sun-baked earth fills my mind
She is all around me
Her phantom fingers touching my hand
Her zephyr robe like butterfly wings
Wrapping around me, insubstantial as smoke
I feel her lips on my cheek, my neck
Tasting the sweat on my skin
And my knees go weak, falling to the grass
Hiding in the tall stems and crushing vetch and clover
Until the scent intoxicates me
Taking leave of my senses even as she caresses me
Her laughter fills my ears
The sultry sound of bees and insect wings
Heat-haze and animal lust
As I give myself unrestrained to the spirit of summer
Friday, August 4, 2006 7:48 PM
Saturday, August 5, 2006 4:48 PM
Thursday, September 7, 2006 8:08 AM
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