Mark Heathcote

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TypeTitleAuthorRepliesLast updated
StoryTen For The Ten Commandments (IP) well-wisher914 years 8 months ago
StoryNicknames for Aislinn Mark Heathcote415 years 1 month ago
StoryLove is the drug shoe815 years 2 months ago
Storyplease (don't ) marry me! shoe1515 years 2 months ago
Storythe affair shoe1315 years 2 months ago
StoryNo two people Mark Heathcote215 years 6 months ago
StorySpring Fever jennifer215 years 6 months ago
StoryEunectes Murinus Anna Marie315 years 6 months ago
StoryToothless Wander lenchenelf915 years 7 months ago
StoryHow royally Avant-garde am I? Mark Heathcote115 years 9 months ago
StoryNearly human (again) Nick.A315 years 10 months ago
StoryDo the British take their brollies? Mark Heathcote616 years 1 month ago
StoryVII Stanzas Mark Heathcote216 years 1 month ago
StoryA Lovely Day Jupiter1816 years 2 months ago
StoryThe Trouble with Grace Silver Spun Sand3016 years 2 months ago
StoryChaosity Kills jennifer216 years 8 months ago
StoryPenetrates jennifer116 years 11 months ago
StoryThe music of one’s love is deaf and dumb Mark Heathcote317 years 1 week ago
StoryA Cautionary Tale MistakenMagic217 years 3 months ago
StoryIn these cormorant hours spent swift Mark Heathcote217 years 3 months ago

My stories

Damask rose

Damask rose how fair your beauty holds the light How fair your fragrance subdues the fears of night and how fair your lowly crimson-head Is with gallantry and passion fed.

My love

My love Air tastes plum sweeter in my lungs in my mouth after a tropical storm flowers lick deeper on yellow tongues oil and incense are in art form..? My love

Through sorrows of you

Love is a sacred red rose First you must breathe its Hot fiery scented clothes And then passion permits Unveil your hearts velvet Tear-ripped torment-soul Be thankful not to covet

The bride

Hewn from a strata of galaxies demure Inured with a witchcraft heartrendingly pure The bride wears her wedding dress like haute couture Dressed in a heavenly gown made by Channel or Dior
Cherry

Candle wax sky

Pellucid blue-eyes, whoever told you to-be-wise whoever told you, you could dream, beyond those? Monolithic, moonlit, midnight skies to drink the midnight curtain of sleep into waking hours

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