A quick spark and the forest is ablaze.
You run,
Jolted by fear,
You fall.

And you are consumed,
And you are in pain,
And you die with the flames.

One constantly thinks of lover,
In the breath she takes,
In the exhale that proceeds,
While mingling with flowers, grass, and toad.

Impishly, as though to whisper,
His name tickles her ear,
Begin the spasms to her inner sphere.

Yes! Unsullied Comrade!
Let her feed you sweet fruits,
Nestle your head near her *******.
Give her expert love with tickle of kiss!

She may be confined to impudent human,
But 'tis evidently true,
That she effortlessly does care,
And care especially for you.

I got caught up in the beauty and I lost myself.

Is it wrong that my thoughts turn me on?

Pinch me.
Play with my hair.
Read me stories.
Kiss my nose.

This is my passion,
And it harms you,
And if not you then another.

Can't you see?
Trying to change,
That would be I giving up me.

I paint the picture,
And I let it burn,
The memory more important,
Than picture in frame.