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augustohenriqued
She has a soft gaze, a peaceful smile, Where silence is a hug that is made. On her face, the calm of someone who is lost in dreams, In her gestures, the gentleness that calms fears. But when the night stretches, the moonlight calls her, The world quiets, and she disarms herself. In her touch, a secret, in her eyes, a beacon, That lights the path of pleasure in her role. She dances in the silence, with a burning soul, Her eyes guard secret, latent desires. She is sweet in the morning, but in bed, incendiary, Her stillness hides an incendiary passion.
