When our lips glanced at each other,
i could have sworn the eclipse happened, time paused for the beauty, the angels sang.
When weird and beautiful mix, something beautifully magical is created.
I could feel my soul burn from your passionate fire.
Our passion is like diesel in an engine, without you my life breaks down.
With you, kissing became a tool where heaven meets hell and becomes one.
While my lips dances on your lips, may your river flow and may my hands take you to Mars.
As you breathe hard, may I become your oxygen, take me like you would suffocate without me.
For the river had flown, love had been made, kisses had been kissed, touches had been touched.
There shall be tears on the kiss.
Sep 6, 2018
Sep 6, 2018 at 9:19 AM UTC
The room is dark, filled with void.
The only thing between us is the paint and brush.
I turn your head up, lost deeply into your eyes.
My masculine voice commands,
I set you free, explore and investigate.
My body is your canvas, let them be your tool where you get lost in your world.
While I get lost in your lips and my hands explore your body.
In paintings we shall ignite a fire, we shall get intimate.
In paintings I rock your world, I dominate you.
With my lips doing justice to your body while I drill you with vigor and passion.
In paintings, we shall moan, groan and scream.
Feeling your body covered up in this beautiful artwork, the pleasure is exhilarating.
My touch soft enough to caress you, but strong enough to protect you.
I feel you, I see the hips gyrating.
In our world, I am your master and I will dominate you.
Let the paint expression express the feelings that can't be expressed.
Let the pain you feel move you and take you to another world.
In painting, you shall be set free but still my slave.
In painting, I shall drill you and your inner soul.
The scream is inevitable, the pain is the one you enjoy.
The very moment you fantasize.
May the paintings make our body flow smoothly so our souls can talk in spirits.
In painting, you, scream, moan and shout.
In painting, I breathe and I smack you out.
In painting, we get tired and pass out.
In paintings, we *** hard and loud.
Aug 22, 2018
Aug 22, 2018 at 3:31 AM UTC
It's so unconventional how you strike a hollow part in my heart
No it's not a love a poem, I think that would be a cliché.
It's just a guy who meets a girl who writes about a girl who sparks stranger attractions.
I met a good girl doing bad things.
She's a ***** in the night, yet an artist in the morning.
Probably painting away all the ****** feelings from last night.
She's like a wolf, she turns into a monster at midnight
Except his sexiness is the full moon
The trigger that transforms the good girl to bad.
May I talk to you madam?
Her eyes dazed at me for a second
She looks right away, turns to another guy .
He's abs and cute face are his weapon
They exchange a smile that couldn't be manufactured in heaven.
He approaches her and they hit it off instantly.
And in minutes they leave the bar together .
She wakes up in the morning smiling, “what a night!”
Her face changes, he left without saying a word
She's into tears again, this time more painful.
She pours her heart into the canvas,
Her heart filled with dark feelings.
Those feelings guide her hands holding the brushes.
She paints a **** man, except she makes him heartless, and gives him horns on the canvas.
Stanza 2
He's the devil that stole my heart
He's Angelic voice couldn't be resistible
His cute face and dimples we're just too loveable.
I think I know who he is
Do you? He is Lucifer.
He turned me into a monster in the night
And left me with my canvas and brushes.
I stay far admiring every edge and turns she makes while painting.
Her attention to details is splendid.
I wish I could be there to clean her tears while she was painting.
At 6pm she wipes her tears, she dresses into that short skirt, puts on makeup.
She dresses seductively and places her breast firmly.
Oh, she's ready for the night.
She's ready to get heartbroken again.
She's a good one, only till 6 pm.
Jul 27, 2018
Jul 27, 2018 at 12:11 PM UTC