The heat intense like your body basking in the sun, sweat forming tear drop shapes,  rolling in slow motion as it finds it's destination .
I try to look away but my mind being held hostage,   my insides  burning and begging to be touched.
Heart beats growing rapid raging fire deep inside.
Oh my God you haven't touched me physically but your sexiness is ****** my mind.
Teasing and taunting mind blowing as I glare at you beginning to touch yourself.
Melting my sensation, from a purring kitten my transformation out of control,  watching the pleasure on your face as your hips begin to run wildly in sequence with every ****** of your hand , I'm losing control. My inner beast can't take anymore,  As I straddle your face my fingers spreading my wet folds , your tongue dancing inside me, my vision becomes blurred my hips lock as the contractions pump wildly releasing  the juice of my fruit. My body so limp from the intense release as you turn me over like a rag doll and guide yourself inside of me. Your sweat now like the rapids running down stream chasing a waterfall, the hot wet friction between my thighs as my nails scream pleasure down the skin of your back as you burst sensation both pain and pleasure inside of me   our breath of hard labor and bodies immobile, after hot passionate love making leaves us exhausted

Be patient with her son, as she's only known you for a little while.      
  Give her time and your baby girl will feel Comfort when you smile.
  Be patient with her son, if she pulls away from your first hug.
  It won't be long  And she will be the one giving your shirt tale a tug.
  Be patient with her son, as she needs reassured all along.
  For the stranger standing in front of her is  her Daddy  that loves her so much and will always be there to teach her right from wrong.
  Be patient my son

©kimmied1105

Defenseless as the bull lays with his limbs wound tight with twined rope, watching as the hot iron lay upon his coat and melt it's way to his flesh. All he can do is Bellow at the agonizing pain for he is unable to stop it. Flowing rapid through his vanes the pain , like the rivers rushing down the stream.
The torture still steaming as the damage is done ,he wears the memory of that pain daily to remind of a feeling of helplessness dismissing his dignity replacing it with his submission as he is forever branded .  I live this feeling everyday as I wake to the torture of my limbs twined with invisible rope, the only difference is the burning flesh is inside piercing my heart as I lay helpless knowing I can't save you from your pain. The worry rips through me ****** and kidnapping my sanity as the thought of the unknown is more than I can bare. Although my scars  are internal ,  the naked eye can't see , the hurt  and fear I  feel for you,  brands me every day

As I reach out to help you, my instinct to guard and protect you, my efforts are  halted .
Feelings of helplessness living false hope consume my every thought. A mother bear unable to  protect her cub infuriates her in a violent rage, as she will stop at nothing to reunite with her baby. But how can I reach you and stop you from walking into the blazing fire, it is evil my child the devil in one of many diguises. Back down and get away from those that are Satan's spawns. I begged and I pleaded with fools but  their ignorance ignored my warnings, as I spoke with words they could comprehend, Not to take my baby boy from me , they wanted to set an example and let politics rule their judgement, Your Honor, I am begging you,  my son made a mistake and deserves to be punished but his sentence of memories from that night is a life sentence please don't put him behind those bars or you will only make a good boy turn bad. I can't reach you to save you baby save yourself and pray to God for He is your Savior son and He will see you through. Hell has no fury when the Mother Bears cub is safe and she returns to finish protecting the ones that took her cub away.

©kimmied1105

How does one know if they are a true poet or merely a lost soul with pen and paper unscrambling their emotions.  Flying high in a cloud of words with definition,  picking and choosing the ripest  like a grape from the vine, reaching into the depths of my heart with the blood of my conviction dripping words on my tablet describing my visions of  life. Yet still the question rains like thunder crashing and lightning striking, be it a fool destined to become a true poet or a poet with eyes that are blind. Knowing the words to be written because they embrace me like a mother does a new born child , but searching for description as to what  makes a poet in a true poets eyes.?

Reality is a battle from within, where your spiritual essence of your inner thoughts stand guard against the inner demons awaiting the attack , how unfortunate that your inner demons don't play well with others