Relationship is an anagram waiting to happen.
Sting An apple of love… There’s a poison in the most perfectly red apple you can pick from the basket a poison quenching your thirst for love or a venom in a sweet juice of serum intoxicating a romance for a while then fatally loose you in the wilds besmearing your innocence and the idiotic impulses of your senses from a well rounded congregations of naiveté prima facie, creamy sweet exchanges, touching verbal kindness, promises of refuge from distress, purity of love’s sincerity, these... Sign in to see full entry.