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Meditations – Models: Sophia Jade, Jemstarlight Moon
In the celestial dance of Jemstarlight Moon and Sophia, Two souls entwined, in sacred union, a cosmic symphony unfolds. In the sanctuary of senses, they embark on a journey divine, Where the language spoken is of energies entwined.
Bathed in the moonlight’s gentle caress,
They traverse realms, a sacred recess.
Sensual massage, a dance of fingertips,
Awakening chakras, as the universe equips.
Crystals gleam, like stars in their embrace,
Held in hands, transmitting love and grace.
Each facet, a prism, reflecting the soul’s glow,
A kaleidoscope of colors, a transcendental show.
Meditation, a voyage to the inner expanse,
They breathe in harmony, in a cosmic dance.
Silent whispers echo through the cosmic sea,
As their spirits merge in sacred unity.
Healing touch, a balm for wounds unseen,
A communion of hearts, where love convenes.
Energy flows, a river of light,
A tapestry woven, both tender and bright.
In this sacred space, time takes a bow,
As Jemstarlight Moon and Sophia vow,
To honor the divinity in each other’s gaze,
A transcendental connection that forever stays.
Through the ebb and flow of life’s grand tide,
They stand united, side by side.
A sacred verse, a hymn to love’s sweet art,
In the temple of souls, they eternally depart.
Standing Like a Flamingo in a Magical Happy Place. Model: Lareina Tay
Crystal in Congregation of Potato People. Model: Crystal A
Church of the Potato People
In the Church of the Tuber, where spuds convene,
A congregation of potato people, a sight unseen.
Their eyes, like russet orbs, fixed on the sacred ground,
As they gather in reverence, in silence profound.
Starch-filled hearts beat in unison, a tater’s devotion,
In pews of mashed delight, a tuberous emotion.
The pulpit adorned with skins, a priestly spud ascends,
Preaching the gospel of the harvest, where the potato life transcends.
But amid the devout, a stranger unknown,
A beauty in disguise, a presence all her own.
She, an outsider, a radiant yam,
In the sea of potatoes, a singular glam.
Her skin, a golden hue, not of earthly soil,
A sweet fragrance of difference, a celestial foil.
Yet, she hides among them, a secret delight,
In the congregation’s eyes, a clandestine light.
The potato people, unaware of her grace,
Continue their worship in the starchy space.
But the outsider listens, absorbing their prayer,
In the silence of tubers, a connection rare.
As the sermon concludes, and the congregation disbands,
The outsider reveals herself, a rose in the lands.
The potatoes, astonished, yet welcoming still,
In this diverse church, love trumps the thrill.
For in the Church of the Tuber, diversity blooms,
In the richness of differences, unity looms.
Potato people and yams, together they stand,
In the spud-filled sanctuary, hand in hand.
Contemplation of a Sunbeam Through Stormy Skies. Model: Liv Hill
Even a short time spent in a forest can change you and restore your soul. Breathe it in. Dance to its subtle rhythm. Let its underlying structure reset your mind. It is where nature reigns free. Beautiful and dangerous. Nurturing and hostile. A reminder of the primordial and ever-changing game of survival.