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Since killed them the Diclofenac
vultures never came back
riverside carcasses in the sun dry
with not one long wing to swoop from the sky.

But vultures around me still abound
preying on the living thriving all around.
A Poet
The modern Poetess writes not because she wants to form words on a page, but because she loves the rhyming and verses that flows around in her head, getting the issue resolved for the next poetic generation to come:
 May 2015 Adam Childs
Rapunzoll
Love me so deeply it hurts
I want raw love,
Love that festers like an open wound
if left untreated

Crave me like a smoker
who can't quit their bad habits
I'll be your nicotine
If you keep coming back for more

Touch me like I'm the masterpiece
of the art museum
They tell you not to touch
but you can't resist

Experience me like a joy ride
a rare kind of high
Let our love kindle like a flame
don't let it blow out
© copyright
 May 2015 Adam Childs
Poetic T
I want you to be mine, only mine
For there is no better way
"I own you"
"I need you"
"I Consume you"
I honour your body
With the touches that fall
From my fingers, we meld as
Flesh,
Emotion,
Tongues
Find the ****** places that meet
Pleasure upon the face, we
Wear our rings signed with love,
Gold,
Platinum,
Silver
Coated moments we signed our love,
But the picture on the mantle of another
Not that which kisses this
Wetted skin. Each moans of this
Pleasurable sin, not thinking of the
Moment one is found in the grasp
By another's eyes glancing within.
Betrayal,
Hurt,
Tears
Do fall from not only one, as rings
Now do fall. Hearts broken
Love shredded by another's sin.
Lust is a moment that
Can create either passion or **regrettable sin.
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