February 8, 2009 § 2 Comments

The room of her chamber was flooded with a soft yellow glitter of sunlight running up and down the walls.

A soft summers breeze writhing its shadows over her skin and through her open windows.

Her tight corset restricting her immensely against her seat by the high towered windows.

She didn’t even hear him come in.

Until she felt his hands running over the gentle young curves of her porcelain skin.

Along the rough ties of her boned corset.

His hands desperate.

Her breath falling harshly like rain.

His hands lifting her up.

Carrying her to her large vintage dressing table.

Wild smells of rose powder and rich honey perfumes smashing to the floor.

Her legs pulling him in.

His lips finding the curve of her neck.




Locked to each other.

In a time long gone.


© Copyright of Charlotte Thorpe


§ 2 Responses to Vintage

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