from crepuscular orations
Eyes semiclosed, gazing panting gently,
and my eyes sped along ahead so I could see the trains turning quickly around the bends as the women, exhilarated, held on tightly.
To open my eyes.
Look at his pretty eyes,
and flickering eyes.
My eyes are dry,
maybe the sun was too much in my eyes.
He also has prepossessing eyes.
But in my eyes
long tall dark eyes and moan, silently,
his smooth hands and his crystal beautiful eyes.
Even though she glares and corner-eyes me.
Pretty hazel eyes.
For his eyes to see.
Dark eyes.
His dark eyes forever engrained,
through his eyes
when I force him to keep his eyes open
for the eyes to soak it up, the lashes lining.
We looked at eyes with our mouths open.
Desert skin on ocean eyes.
Or his eyes?
All I had to do was to close my eyes
but for the moments when his eyes would grow big looking upwards,
my tears fogging my brain and my eyes.
My pretty dog with her pretty eyes.
His eyes & profile.
My eyes began to leak and he stayed in me,
eyes on theatrical display.
Soaking into my eyes and my ears and my heart,
his dark eyes etched with the charcoal lashes of a woman,
his beard grows all the way up to just under his eyes.
I can still close the eyes and find you warming down me.
Rolling eyes,
his surprised, opened-eyes:
He has green eyes, or hazel, and they go down at the corners somehow...
I can see the color of his face and the tactile reactions of his eyes...
and the teeth and eyes,
my eyes are watering
his eyes closed
my eyes, his.
I'm glad hat he has hazel eyes that go blue.
I want his brain & eyes.
All sorts of eyes on me,
conversations & eyes!
I can barely use my eyes, they are so teary...
My eyes filled and I said,
pretty eyes, pretty face.
He has redbrown eyes like his hair.
from momentos preciosas
my eyes I can feel are closing.
eyes dilated,
my problem is not just dilation of the eyes but the mind,
I feel my eyes dropping closed.
