Erindoom Stories

Her eyes, green and profound, were akin to English meadows beneath the grey skies of April, abundant with stories whispered by the wind through ancient oaks. They embodied the calm of secluded gardens, the poetry of old, mossy walls, and the allure of mists lifting at dawn over damp paths. They were the scent enveloping the dawn, virgin kisses yet to be whispered in an ear, excitement and hope, fragile nails sunk into the flesh of the back, and legs that entwine and press. Julian's eyes, blue and boundless, were the ocean lapping the shores of San Blas, the Caribbean itself, Aruba, Bonaire, and Curaçao, nights in a Havana bar, the flickering light of a candle where the melancholic strains of 'Guantanamera' blend with the sensual rhythm of 'Chan Chan,' and couples dance closely until dawn under a tropical sky dotted with stars... Moreover, they were the Salar de Uyuni in Bolivia where the sky and sea merge and, with the same stubborn perfection, they reflected her lunar beauty. They were freedom and the air one breathes, adventure written in the waves. In those eyes was the call of the open sea, the promise of endless horizons, the pristine beauty of waters merging with the purest sky, making us feel alive, children of a limitless God... This is the story of a Love born in art, lived in desire, and grown among the buildings on fire. It's a story of respect and pain, for those two were accomplices, in times so humanly difficult.

wee belli, non trovavo il fabbricante di lacrime qui, quindi lo scrivo io, si, è tutto il libro intero🤪 (da pag 9 a 668) inizio: 22:16 del 03/11/2022 fine: ... in corso