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MycatTerry
F Rediscovering my love for poetry.
He’s drenched in sweat and he’s teasing me. His body radiates an uncomfortable heat That melts our skin together seamlessly. Our eyes slowly meet. He kisses my neck and behind my ear. And his breathing becomes heavy With the sweet scent of beer That lingers and brings me to ecstasy. He tightens his grip on my waist And I can feel his pulsing vein. It throbs violently and in haste, Yet deafened by the sound of rain. With my fingers tracing his face And my tongue swimming in his mouth, I’m in my happy place On this broken couch.
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May 21, 2018
May 21, 2018 at 2:18 AM UTC
On this broken couch
Welcome to the meat shop Where arms and legs dangle from the top, Where discarded fats ooze from the lid Of a metal bin and a giant squid Is sneaking out through the crack near the back door. And the floor is ***** and slippery like butter Oyster juice stained the buttons on the cash register. Aunty comes with her butcher knife. She’s about to chop the life Out of that carp. She misses! And swears. Her finger, clean cut, and bounces off the floor. My lord! Blood sputters from her knuckle. The entire scene gives me a chuckle. And I wake up from my dream hungry.
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May 8, 2018
May 8, 2018 at 1:28 AM UTC
Welcome to the meat shop
My lover, He's sweeter than unprocessed honey. His touch is softer than a puff of air, But his jokes aren't funny And he isn't Stephen Colbert.
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Apr 27, 2018
Apr 27, 2018 at 11:50 PM UTC
My lover
I can no longer hide My soul ignited once disparaged I long to share it The chills in my spine put into words Lips on skin Eyes filled with sin What is this sensation I drip colors you cannot see Heightening my passion Enhancing my touch Raw emotion channeled as such My desire aches The color of flush My cage breaks Expressions of lust I do not fear it I can hear you blush My favorite sound Our souls combust
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Apr 18, 2018
Apr 18, 2018 at 11:30 PM UTC
I drip colors you cannot see
The tongue is lethal, A sweet coating for a rotten core. Every shift of the tide is another lie. The tongue is lethal, a small dose of poison for the chronically ill. Every promise is broken and my heart becomes frozen. The tongue is lethal, a silent drowning in shallow water. Every attempt to demoralize the psyche brings tears to my eyes. The tongue is lethal, an eye wide open as my mind drifts to sleep. This tongue of mine is a weapon for surefire demise.
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Apr 18, 2018
Apr 18, 2018 at 10:34 PM UTC
The tongue is lethal
Are you holding back Like I think you are? Are you hiding your scars And keeping your heart afar? When the birds no longer flap their wings And I grow thin, Would you still be willing To wait for spring?
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Apr 8, 2018
Apr 8, 2018 at 3:41 PM UTC
Waiting for spring
Your smirk lingers on my mind when you left sweetness on my tongue. Deep thoughts, deep breaths. Honey-flavored heartaches, heartbreaks--this takes the cake. My feelings flow with high viscosity, like the blood in my veins that slowly thickens, freeze up when you touch me. I want you here, my Dear. You tighten your grip on me. I am feeling naked, wanting more. Stranger, I crave you--consumed by thoughts of you. Please. I want nothing to do with wanting.
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Apr 4, 2018
Apr 4, 2018 at 6:35 PM UTC
Dear Stranger,
I can feel your presence looming over me. I look over my right shoulder, gazing at your deltoid muscle. You embrace me with those strong arms And shock me with your cold, drenched skin. I trace these long scars on your left forearm. And face you. Deep dimples trap your mischievous smile. A droplet of water drips from the ends of your hair onto my forehead. You grab onto my waist and press me against you. I am on my toes. You now have my attention.
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Mar 31, 2018
Mar 31, 2018 at 4:05 PM UTC
Height difference