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 Jul 2012 Deepsha
Melissa S
I am the moves to the dance you have done
and the voice to the song you have sung

I am the thoughts that grow from within
before your thoughts even set to pen

I am the magic that forms on the brush that you hold
and the melody from the music that unfolds

I am what is behind the alluring touch you so crave
I weave around all that you so freely gave

I am the one who inspires
I am your lust wrapped up in desire

This is not a ruse
I am who you call out to for help
I am your muse
This is for all the women here at HP
 Jul 2012 Deepsha
DieingEmbers
I misjudged the fall and broke more than my legs
Hearts should come with airbags
 Jul 2012 Deepsha
K Balachandran
Swimming **** in the river,
a forgotten art since childhood;
he and she redeemed it,
during their love's fervour,
tasting fire.

Fire and water, they played with,
after every dive, her gleaming lips,
met his sun blazed pair,
a subdued thunder
exquisitely shook their bodies
uncontrollably for moments
right from the deepest root.

Giddy with pleasure,
her eyes tightly remained closed,
but lips drank sun
from his lips avidly
without stop.

She felt her body taut,
like guitar strings,
ready to sing.

What he thought was this:
my girl is a red hibiscus flower,
that would bloom, fold by fold,
when tantalizing fingers of desire,
caress the buds,
gently first and then passion's currents
sow goosebumps all over.


She is a vine,
that gets him entangled,
her hands emits sparks.
Flames on her lips,
seek downward path,
and lights the unmitigated
embers of *****.
 Jul 2012 Deepsha
Marcus Lane
We sit cross-legged in the story corner
Breathing faint ammonia smells.
Table chants and hymns echo through corridor acoustics,
All creatures great and small.

We are wedged in a tangle of podgy thighs,
Grazed knees, scabs and warts.

And Anthony is sitting alone again
Where he can do no harm.

Yet he said he would bring it, and bring it he has.
Its tiny white head is nosing over
The  hem of his pocket,
Whiskers a-twitch and
Eyes like tiny blood blisters ripe for popping.

A shudder of shivering whispers and
Nervous heads are half turned:

Yes, Anthony is smiling his special smile.

Mrs Lloyd has found the page,
My lids are squeezed tight
As I urge my mind to follow her away
From here, away from now.

For playtime will be ****** once again.
© Marcus Lane 2010
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