Silk is smooth and starts with an S. I just bought a mug that has the letter S on it. It also has a picture of a snake on it. I bought it at a store called Ross yesterday. I also bought these really cool shoes and a plane ticket to Baton Rouge because my best friend is getting proposed to on Thursday!
I see the silky flowery veil of the night before, limping away like a wounded bird. All I can think about is why my hands are covered in paintings of ducks. I stagger, only to realise, my life means everything. I am the key.
Silk is a cloth that is made of big horrible worms, thay are so ugly but makes really pretty fabric. Its very expensive because its a very old technique made by japanesse people.
Pure silk. China. Silk Road. Trade. Import, export, some-port haha. I want to make plushies again with felt fabric and use silk as the clothing pieces. But I can’t. Cuz I’m busy nowadays. I’m tired. Electric fan blowing at my face.
Its smooth, like your skin. I wish i could wear it night and day, never take it off. I like you on me, with me. Let’s stay this way forever, make a perfect patchwork, never be apart. They’ll envy us, we’ll love.
I touched your skin for once in my lifetime, and felt something stronger than the cells embodied there. I felt home, I felt free, I felt beautiful. I felt like nothing in the world would ever be wrong as long as your hand was in mine. Everything degenerates, however, and now your skin is gone. Your memory remains soft and pleasant in my hands.
First thought that comes to mind is a silk dress. I mean, silk isn’t all that flattering. I’m more into the lacy look. ;) Then I thought of silk milk. Mmm, that sounds really good right now. Damn, I suck at this thing. Hahaha. I’ll try this some other time when I’m bored. :D
The ice cream ran down my throat with sweet abandon, the silky cream rushed me back to times where the world was still perfect and life was uncomplicated.
silk reminds me of this girl i really don’t like. “oh, don’t touch it! you might wrinkle my silk!” no one REALLY cares, stupid. plus, isn’t it kinda hard to wrinkle silk just by touching it? that’s how i feel. so, go home, and pet your silk, or whatever. because i honestly don’t care. take your scarf, your cashmere sweater, cup of tea, and big sophisticated vocabulary and GO HOME.
i really did not know how to start, so i simply began typing, whilst i was typing a friend jumped me on Skype and started to chat. This interrupted my thought process completely and made me start to make spelling and typing errors. Hopefully this won’t be an issue, but hey, who knowos on these odd sites :)
I don’t like the word silk. It’s just so bland. I mean, four letters of pure nothingness. Don’t get me wrong, the actual object silk is fantastic, indeed. But what I don’t get is why in the hell I would want to write about such an entity. That is all.
My skin felt as smooth as silk I noticed as I walked out the front door on my way to the party. I was glad I bought the new lotion that was on my skin now. Hopefully, he would be there, and would notice it too.
smooth buttery and slippery. silk is milky and light and warm like a cotton ball. silk is gold and nail polish remover. silk is a tv commercial from the nineties. silk is grandma
soft
white
pretty
comfortable
used a lot
old
fasionable
tough material
material
comes from worms
money; its expensive
used a lot in different countries
Skin as soft as silk. Eyes like dark chocolate. Lips like strawberries. And oh, the dirt that stains them. In a voice of velvet, no less. You are an enigma. I think I know everything.
Silken sheets rippled on the motel four-poster, you slid out from between them and stretched your feet down to the cold floorboards, looked over your shoulder coyly. Like a crumpled cherub, all ruddy-cheeked and drowsy.
She put on the silk dress waiting for his reaction to the purple flow. It reminded her of the water outside next to the beach. The silk was new, soft, and beautiful.
Silky smooth, not like your introduction or your confession, but like your soul intertwined for only a few moments, in mine. Silky smooth, those blue eyes and luscious lips, that only one lacking all taste could refuse to deeply kiss.
Beautiful, flowing, wrapped around my legs like a cocoon when I awake in the morning. I strip it from my body and feel the soft fabric in my hands. It feels like heaven. I put it to my face and rub it back and forth. This is perfection.
The taste of everything in the air was what made me think of the word: silk. Silk like her skin, like milk, like the taste of success right before defeat. What life is supposed to be, but its not. That’s what I thought as I saw her face.
It tears and he cries and it was the only thing he had left of her, something she’d gotten him for his birthday, wrapping the tie in silly Christmas paper, throwing it across the room to him at his surprise party. She was gone now, though, no more silly wrapping paper, no more silk ties. His beautiful little sister was gone.
Her skin was silky smooth, soft as you’d imagine a dove’s coo if only you could feel it.
Was there more to her than that?
“No,” he thought sadly. “No.”
And so he let her slip away like a silk nightgown from a body.
Luxurious, decadent. Silk sheets. When you want to indulge yourself. It also has an Asian feel to it. The first mental image I have is a kimono. Lots of lush colors, red, yellow.
nice, soft. Reminds of the silk trail that we learned about sopphomore year in AP World. And how I forgot to write about religion on the exam when the came to ” change over time.” Remindes me of lying about how well I d
Her hair felt like silk as she laid her body against mine. We laid there, nothing more, nothing less. Her body against mine, her silk hair against my face. Everything was calm. Everything was quiet. Nothing else seemed to matter, except for the contact of our bodies.
Silk is smooth and starts with an S. I just bought a mug that has the letter S on it. It also has a picture of a snake on it. I bought it at a store called Ross yesterday. I also bought these really cool shoes and a plane ticket to Baton Rouge because my best friend is getting proposed to on Thursday!
I see the silky flowery veil of the night before, limping away like a wounded bird. All I can think about is why my hands are covered in paintings of ducks. I stagger, only to realise, my life means everything. I am the key.
Silk is a cloth that is made of big horrible worms, thay are so ugly but makes really pretty fabric. Its very expensive because its a very old technique made by japanesse people.
Pure silk. China. Silk Road. Trade. Import, export, some-port haha. I want to make plushies again with felt fabric and use silk as the clothing pieces. But I can’t. Cuz I’m busy nowadays. I’m tired. Electric fan blowing at my face.
white soft and lovely on a bed with my partner
kissing and being loved, everything feels right
everything feels comfortable for us, is love.
Its smooth, like your skin. I wish i could wear it night and day, never take it off. I like you on me, with me. Let’s stay this way forever, make a perfect patchwork, never be apart. They’ll envy us, we’ll love.
spider webs, silk white nets, made with grace, and diligence
I touched your skin for once in my lifetime, and felt something stronger than the cells embodied there. I felt home, I felt free, I felt beautiful. I felt like nothing in the world would ever be wrong as long as your hand was in mine. Everything degenerates, however, and now your skin is gone. Your memory remains soft and pleasant in my hands.
First thought that comes to mind is a silk dress. I mean, silk isn’t all that flattering. I’m more into the lacy look. ;) Then I thought of silk milk. Mmm, that sounds really good right now. Damn, I suck at this thing. Hahaha. I’ll try this some other time when I’m bored. :D
The ice cream ran down my throat with sweet abandon, the silky cream rushed me back to times where the world was still perfect and life was uncomplicated.
So soft. So gentle. Luxurious. China. Butterflies. Beauty. You and me. We are never gonna be.
silk reminds me of this girl i really don’t like. “oh, don’t touch it! you might wrinkle my silk!” no one REALLY cares, stupid. plus, isn’t it kinda hard to wrinkle silk just by touching it? that’s how i feel. so, go home, and pet your silk, or whatever. because i honestly don’t care. take your scarf, your cashmere sweater, cup of tea, and big sophisticated vocabulary and GO HOME.
i really did not know how to start, so i simply began typing, whilst i was typing a friend jumped me on Skype and started to chat. This interrupted my thought process completely and made me start to make spelling and typing errors. Hopefully this won’t be an issue, but hey, who knowos on these odd sites :)
e
her skin, so beautiful.
milky white, pure.
the color of a shell.
as soft as silk.
I don’t like the word silk. It’s just so bland. I mean, four letters of pure nothingness. Don’t get me wrong, the actual object silk is fantastic, indeed. But what I don’t get is why in the hell I would want to write about such an entity. That is all.
its soft, i really like sil i suppose is what i sshould say. the word on this page is purple. purple silk. times running out. sill silsilllksilkkilk
My skin felt as smooth as silk I noticed as I walked out the front door on my way to the party. I was glad I bought the new lotion that was on my skin now. Hopefully, he would be there, and would notice it too.
It reminds me of fancy silk komonos. They are elegant and vividly colored. That reminds me of feudal Japanese life. Actors wear them in theatre.
smooth buttery and slippery. silk is milky and light and warm like a cotton ball. silk is gold and nail polish remover. silk is a tv commercial from the nineties. silk is grandma
who am i, but a pauper?
this is commonplace for you,
isn’t it? your bed is covered in
silk, your pajamas.
the clothing that only
your suitors ever
see.
i, on the other hand, sit in this ratty cotton,
envious.
the pretty smooth soft things those worms make~ :D like the underwear~
smooth, fine, nice, cool, strong, bug, china, girl, bed, sheet, david bowie, warmth, love, pink, red,
soft
white
pretty
comfortable
used a lot
old
fasionable
tough material
material
comes from worms
money; its expensive
used a lot in different countries
Skin as soft as silk. Eyes like dark chocolate. Lips like strawberries. And oh, the dirt that stains them. In a voice of velvet, no less. You are an enigma. I think I know everything.
Soft. I guess that’s really all there is to say about silk. It’s soft. But not practical at all. I guess that’s why I prefer cotton.
Silken sheets rippled on the motel four-poster, you slid out from between them and stretched your feet down to the cold floorboards, looked over your shoulder coyly. Like a crumpled cherub, all ruddy-cheeked and drowsy.
She put on the silk dress waiting for his reaction to the purple flow. It reminded her of the water outside next to the beach. The silk was new, soft, and beautiful.
Silky smooth, not like your introduction or your confession, but like your soul intertwined for only a few moments, in mine. Silky smooth, those blue eyes and luscious lips, that only one lacking all taste could refuse to deeply kiss.
Beautiful, flowing, wrapped around my legs like a cocoon when I awake in the morning. I strip it from my body and feel the soft fabric in my hands. It feels like heaven. I put it to my face and rub it back and forth. This is perfection.
“This is really soft, almost like silk.”
The young man smiled at her, “You act as if you’ve never seen anything like this before.”
Lisa looked up, worried she was about to blow her cover.
As smooth as – what? He couldn’t really say that he was as smooth as silk because there was an edge to his smoothness.
The taste of everything in the air was what made me think of the word: silk. Silk like her skin, like milk, like the taste of success right before defeat. What life is supposed to be, but its not. That’s what I thought as I saw her face.
Beautiful. Lush.. feeling smooth along the body.
kisses can compare. that soft feeling that slides along a surface.
silk worms. that sounds gross never mind. haha
but smooth, yeah. Smoooooth.
It tears and he cries and it was the only thing he had left of her, something she’d gotten him for his birthday, wrapping the tie in silly Christmas paper, throwing it across the room to him at his surprise party. She was gone now, though, no more silly wrapping paper, no more silk ties. His beautiful little sister was gone.
Her skin was silky smooth, soft as you’d imagine a dove’s coo if only you could feel it.
Was there more to her than that?
“No,” he thought sadly. “No.”
And so he let her slip away like a silk nightgown from a body.
Luxurious, decadent. Silk sheets. When you want to indulge yourself. It also has an Asian feel to it. The first mental image I have is a kimono. Lots of lush colors, red, yellow.
nice, soft. Reminds of the silk trail that we learned about sopphomore year in AP World. And how I forgot to write about religion on the exam when the came to ” change over time.” Remindes me of lying about how well I d
Her hair felt like silk as she laid her body against mine. We laid there, nothing more, nothing less. Her body against mine, her silk hair against my face. Everything was calm. Everything was quiet. Nothing else seemed to matter, except for the contact of our bodies.
silk softly flowing through your hands like water sexy ever moving swiflty silk…..spelling out secrets and sex.
i’ve seen this word I’m disappointed but it doeas remind me of the Silk milk the chocolate kind