My body rotting from day one.
Death a guest star at every birthday.

There is no day dark enough that my heart shall close.
No storm great enough to keep my head under water.
The collosoal tide of time must always nip at my heels.
But my legs will carry me until weight they can bare no more.
I expose my gashed soul to the world because internal infections are hardest to heal.
Flowing crimson red, my fragility, my weakness.
These i offer to you as lessons.
Lessons in my strength and the insidious power that i keep secret.
Behind my teeth, a blossoming garden of bullets dressed like flowers.
My hands, lashing, thorned vines, alluring beauty and a deadly mind!

I will rise a pheonix from the ashes that you made of me.
My tounge will untangle itself from the knot in my stomach.
Wounds will weep from the lashing of my whip like tounge

Whip cracking, skin smacking, back lashing!

**** on the train.
Really, **** on the train?

I think think those naked, explicit maggots have rotted your brain!
Assuming you had one.

You say this is socially acceptable.
I guess we know what you mean by "movie night".

You're a putrid, mangy creature without a soul to call home.
You cretanous waste of life, you dont deserve a ******* rhyming word!

Im so busy seeing your side that i forgot where mine is!

Her honey'd hole a wet, *******,
her liquid gold a silky stream where
sliding thrusts were mounted, hot,
and arching bodies dared not stop;
where moments flowed into the next
and both were drowned in comfort ***
and eyes were riding each one's soul:
his quest for freedom her only goal

And rather than come up for air
this fiery passion sank them there,
(as both an anchor, 'twined like rope,
and locked in pelvic gyroscope)
her swollen thighs around his waist,
her nails embedded, tongues embraced
and fishing for that final taste
with every touch, in every place

Fused as one with melting cores,
(her curling toes demanding more)
his urgent need to plunge her rightly
sealed them closed with hearts bound tight, and
all around them
walls of water washed their sins
in quickening waves that locked them in
with swats and spanks
and gentle yanks and saucy stares
while skin to skin and hand to soaking hair

Like rolling tide to rocky shore,
(her legs thrown wide, his pelvis sore)
the crash and grind of karmic ties
were deep explored and fast revived
- with whispered greed they came alive -
awash with ***** un-restraint and
thrived, un-reined, with fate to blame,
their pulsing needs through every vein,
infused as one and charged by same:
her wild release on which he came
an ocean, calling out her name