Galactic lovers decline

She was galactically appealing wherever she wondered she left a trail of admirers and broken hearts. A female intergalactic James Bond at work was the nearest comparison one could ever get too. As she wondered about collecting a series of beautiful souls to fill a shelf of sex adventures from glitter scaled aliens and ordinary humans she had never settled anywhere once throughout the galaxy.

Her silhouette left people in a sweat of ecstasy and at a wonder how women like so could hold such a charm on men and women. She didn’t need to speak because let’s speak honestly words were for losers, and she wasn’t one of those. Her smouldering look simply said all she needed to say in every galactic language.

Her touch melted the coldest ice boulders, and her smile captured gazes like a beekeeper at work smoking his rivals out unaware and unprepared for what’s to come. So many had spoken of her like a spell master casting out love spells, but nothing had come of those claims, and maybe that’s because they too had fallen for her.

They said beware for she was like a drink of love potion but nobody cared because they all desired a taste of love potion number 99 and she had enough of it to go around. Her free morals had made me question if she was tainted and if this mystical galactically mistress who spread love like LSD at a hippy revival had, in fact, a heart.

I had desired to fall for women that had secrets taller than a station tower hovering over the earth so far away without a touch of the atmosphere to reel it back in for answers as it created its own orbit. Her beauty distracted and hid so much of what you could never know, and her skin had told stories of galaxies far as my hands added to the secrets she picked to carry. This galactic beauty had drawn me in, and as much as I begged for more, I was left to breathe in the empty earth that she had once occupied.

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