I remember the feeling. Crushed. Cold. Like a broken heart rubbed against my cheeks. I suppose it was supposed to comfort me, to soothe my tears and stop my crying. But instead, I felt trapped. Smothered. And I haven’t been able to bear the weight of my Grandfather’s coat since.
We ate red velvet cake today at a family gathering at my grandparents’ house. Family and friends are coming from all over the country (this sounds huge haha) to go to their 50th anniversary tomorrow. Big day. :)
Sorry this was boring.
velvet crops around the cotton fields. velvet revolver. velvet underground books make me moist in my velvet panties. velvet is all i see in my life. velvet you.
Lush velvet carpet squishes between the toes. As I lay languidly, comtemplating my desires, I feel her lay next to me, and curl up against me. She presses her lips to mine, enveloping me in a soft kiss. I love her with all my heart. She is mine and I am hers. I am her king….She my king, and we are wrapped in velvet as one.
Velvet would always be a comforting word. the way it rolled of my tongue and reminded me of his voice. I remeber the night when he was supposed to scome back
ummmmmm…..what should i write about velvet!?? Geez what to say about velvet!??? Oh well
VELVET
VELVET VELVET VELVET VELVET…….phew….VEEEEEEELVET!!!
all done! :D
Velvet voices talking about my death. Or my immortality if you think about it. I did want thius to happe, just not from them. The volturi. Sure i fell in love with Alec but i wanted the cullens to change me. And i wanted to join them. I hated my diet here. Sickly sweet human blood.
Velvet. I think of cake and softness. Soft, and just beautiful. Smooth and flawless. Melt in your mouth. I just want to wrap up in it and fall asleep. Warmth and comfort.
The rope looked like a red velvet cake. The boy walked along it, and wondered why he couldn’t go to the other side. On the other side was a fancy place for fancy adults. He wondered why he couldn’t just walk under it. He heard it was a sacred rope. Velvet. He licked his lips and turned the other way.
the velvet clung tightly to the antlers of the deer. he’d always had to contend with the shake and rustle as the deer moved through the woods but it was coming up to the worst time of the year, it was rutting season. he’d have a lot of trouble keeping himself where he belonged.
as i run my hands along your body,
over your cheeks,
down your neck,
across your breasts,
along your stomach,
into the place that your legs meet,
around your thigh,
and atop your calves,
i feel velvet, silk, perfection.
i love every part of you.
imperfect and perfect alike.
“velvet is synonymous with soft things,” johnny said.
he took a hit and fell back into his chair. he lay limp with his face turned to the ceiling, eyes closed and mouth agape like his heart had just stopped.
it makes me think of that band velvet underground. they were in the movie juno..and i LOVE the music in that movie because a chick named Kimya Dawson does alot of the music and i LOVER her…she’s SO gooda nd random. jsut likwe me and i loe it. i wonderwhat people think of my random posts. ad i still can’t tyupe…because my finger is still cut…=/ haha oww.
The robe felt soft against her skin, but she was melancholy. She looked out at the night sky, quietly wondering if the planes flying high above contained the man she had been dreaming of. He was gone on another mission, and she hadn’t seen him in quite some time. She wished she could go with her team on a mission just to have something to do. It was boring around here.
He pulled at his brocade with the pride of a rich man, pressed his fine jewelry between two knotty fingers. His eyes were bloodshot and raw with hate, but in his suits and sigils he looked exactly the part he was meant to play.
Her skin is like velvet, but I never get to touch it. Her hair is like golden strands, but I never get to stroke it. So, instead, I guess and make metaphors for what I think she is like because I can’t know who she really is.
Adam lays on the bed, not far from her. When the windows darken, and they have sat in silence for as long as they can both bear, they both move together. Slowly, grazing against one another and tracing their thin, shaking fingertips along the planes of one another’s faces. His olive skin is hot, smooth like velvet.
Tipping the Velvet. An incredibly dark, yet inspiring story of two women falling into forbidden love. One was a circus performer, how intriguing. I recommend it (:
Adam lays on the bed, not far from her. When the windows darken, and they have sat in silence for as long as they can bare, they both move together. Slowly, grazing against one another and tracing their thin, shaking fingertips against the planes of one another’s faces. His olive skin is ho, smooth like velvet.
Red velvet cake. So delicious and…velvety. I love all different kinds of cake though. German chocolate…yellow…I’m not very fond of ice cream cake though, never have been for some reason.
oh its so soft you dont even have to touch it to feel its warmth. its like the inside of a vagina. i associate this with being crushed. not like by a boulder but like a suit.
this was a rather prominent word in a book i just finished reading for about the third time. it is perhaps my favorite book. there were these girls, called velvets.
I never really liked velvet. Its always been really odd to me. You rub it one way and its smoother, you rub it the other and its rough. Although if i were to describe something as velvety i would think rich…
the girl sat in a room in a velvet dress.It was plain but it was something her mother gave her and she loved it alot. She sat there alone drinking a plain drink her brother had given her moments before.
Why the velvet tones comming in so deep? do they not perceive me so as a human, that which I am? Am I not a velvet too? breaching out from the spectrum and proceeding to do so.
velvet makes me think of that song black velvet–which this girl performed at the high school variety show when i was in 9th grade, in a scandalously racy outfit, one that was probably not appropriate for high schoolers’ viewing at all
With skin like velvet, he acts so smooth, but when he feels rubbed wrongly, he becomes as bristly as a Brillo pad, scratching anyone who comes in contact and screaming til the he’s covered in his own rust.
Her mother, her mother’s mother, her mother’s mother’s mother, and so on had always run the very same dress making shop. Guilty was not a strong enough word for how she felt about breaking the chain, and every time she saw someone wearing velvet–her mother’s favorite fabric–a wave of shame crashed over her.
A touch that cannot be described… A feeling that would take much longer than 60 seconds for me to talk about…. ;)
It was velvet, and it was exquisitely tailored, and it probably cost more money than I had ever seen in my life.
And it was on the floor, and what lay beneath made it meaningless.
“But it’s cotton! It says it on the label”
“Alright. But don’t come complaining to me with heat stroke by mid-day.
“Velvet. On a summer’s day! Something’s wrong with you, child.”
whirl me around your head, spinning faster now, a soft undertone of sweetness sparkles in your eye, and i see now that you love me
I remember the feeling. Crushed. Cold. Like a broken heart rubbed against my cheeks. I suppose it was supposed to comfort me, to soothe my tears and stop my crying. But instead, I felt trapped. Smothered. And I haven’t been able to bear the weight of my Grandfather’s coat since.
The velvet glove ran over her skin as she awoke in the early morning light. She shifted to realize the glove came from someone she did not recognize.
OOOOOOOO SOFT PRETTY DRESSES SOFT! FUZZY DRESSES YAY!!!!!!!!! SSSSSOOOOOFFFFTTTTT
We ate red velvet cake today at a family gathering at my grandparents’ house. Family and friends are coming from all over the country (this sounds huge haha) to go to their 50th anniversary tomorrow. Big day. :)
Sorry this was boring.
The black velvet sleeve was too big for him. He looked up at me in disgust.
‘Can’t you even get something that fits me?’
‘Sorry,’ I muttered.
velvet crops around the cotton fields. velvet revolver. velvet underground books make me moist in my velvet panties. velvet is all i see in my life. velvet you.
Lush velvet carpet squishes between the toes. As I lay languidly, comtemplating my desires, I feel her lay next to me, and curl up against me. She presses her lips to mine, enveloping me in a soft kiss. I love her with all my heart. She is mine and I am hers. I am her king….She my king, and we are wrapped in velvet as one.
Velvet would always be a comforting word. the way it rolled of my tongue and reminded me of his voice. I remeber the night when he was supposed to scome back
“What
ummmmmm…..what should i write about velvet!?? Geez what to say about velvet!??? Oh well
VELVET
VELVET VELVET VELVET VELVET…….phew….VEEEEEEELVET!!!
all done! :D
Velvet voices talking about my death. Or my immortality if you think about it. I did want thius to happe, just not from them. The volturi. Sure i fell in love with Alec but i wanted the cullens to change me. And i wanted to join them. I hated my diet here. Sickly sweet human blood.
Velvet. I think of cake and softness. Soft, and just beautiful. Smooth and flawless. Melt in your mouth. I just want to wrap up in it and fall asleep. Warmth and comfort.
The rope looked like a red velvet cake. The boy walked along it, and wondered why he couldn’t go to the other side. On the other side was a fancy place for fancy adults. He wondered why he couldn’t just walk under it. He heard it was a sacred rope. Velvet. He licked his lips and turned the other way.
You are velvet cloth
I touch you just to feel
a little more alive.
70’s. the cure, clothing, gay bars, curtains, wallpaper, trannies, discos, disco, david bowie
the velvet clung tightly to the antlers of the deer. he’d always had to contend with the shake and rustle as the deer moved through the woods but it was coming up to the worst time of the year, it was rutting season. he’d have a lot of trouble keeping himself where he belonged.
as i run my hands along your body,
over your cheeks,
down your neck,
across your breasts,
along your stomach,
into the place that your legs meet,
around your thigh,
and atop your calves,
i feel velvet, silk, perfection.
i love every part of you.
imperfect and perfect alike.
soft and silky smooth. hmmmmm. purple and red and make women look beautiful when they wear it right…
“velvet is synonymous with soft things,” johnny said.
he took a hit and fell back into his chair. he lay limp with his face turned to the ceiling, eyes closed and mouth agape like his heart had just stopped.
it makes me think of that band velvet underground. they were in the movie juno..and i LOVE the music in that movie because a chick named Kimya Dawson does alot of the music and i LOVER her…she’s SO gooda nd random. jsut likwe me and i loe it. i wonderwhat people think of my random posts. ad i still can’t tyupe…because my finger is still cut…=/ haha oww.
The robe felt soft against her skin, but she was melancholy. She looked out at the night sky, quietly wondering if the planes flying high above contained the man she had been dreaming of. He was gone on another mission, and she hadn’t seen him in quite some time. She wished she could go with her team on a mission just to have something to do. It was boring around here.
He pulled at his brocade with the pride of a rich man, pressed his fine jewelry between two knotty fingers. His eyes were bloodshot and raw with hate, but in his suits and sigils he looked exactly the part he was meant to play.
Her skin is like velvet, but I never get to touch it. Her hair is like golden strands, but I never get to stroke it. So, instead, I guess and make metaphors for what I think she is like because I can’t know who she really is.
Adam lays on the bed, not far from her. When the windows darken, and they have sat in silence for as long as they can both bear, they both move together. Slowly, grazing against one another and tracing their thin, shaking fingertips along the planes of one another’s faces. His olive skin is hot, smooth like velvet.
Tipping the Velvet. An incredibly dark, yet inspiring story of two women falling into forbidden love. One was a circus performer, how intriguing. I recommend it (:
Adam lays on the bed, not far from her. When the windows darken, and they have sat in silence for as long as they can bare, they both move together. Slowly, grazing against one another and tracing their thin, shaking fingertips against the planes of one another’s faces. His olive skin is ho, smooth like velvet.
Red velvet cake. So delicious and…velvety. I love all different kinds of cake though. German chocolate…yellow…I’m not very fond of ice cream cake though, never have been for some reason.
her red velvet lips slowly caressed his broad chest… and they slow danced under the moonlight.
oh its so soft you dont even have to touch it to feel its warmth. its like the inside of a vagina. i associate this with being crushed. not like by a boulder but like a suit.
this was a rather prominent word in a book i just finished reading for about the third time. it is perhaps my favorite book. there were these girls, called velvets.
I never really liked velvet. Its always been really odd to me. You rub it one way and its smoother, you rub it the other and its rough. Although if i were to describe something as velvety i would think rich…
the girl sat in a room in a velvet dress.It was plain but it was something her mother gave her and she loved it alot. She sat there alone drinking a plain drink her brother had given her moments before.
Why the velvet tones comming in so deep? do they not perceive me so as a human, that which I am? Am I not a velvet too? breaching out from the spectrum and proceeding to do so.
velvet makes me think of that song black velvet–which this girl performed at the high school variety show when i was in 9th grade, in a scandalously racy outfit, one that was probably not appropriate for high schoolers’ viewing at all
With skin like velvet, he acts so smooth, but when he feels rubbed wrongly, he becomes as bristly as a Brillo pad, scratching anyone who comes in contact and screaming til the he’s covered in his own rust.
the velvet room. silk sheets. sex. cliche passion. stale, dusty sex. old medieval kings. robes.fabric.
Her mother, her mother’s mother, her mother’s mother’s mother, and so on had always run the very same dress making shop. Guilty was not a strong enough word for how she felt about breaking the chain, and every time she saw someone wearing velvet–her mother’s favorite fabric–a wave of shame crashed over her.