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Amazing,
What we've turned into.
I'm breathless.
It's how you leave me.
In awe, flattered, spoiled, living.
All of this, drawing me closer and closer to you.
Quickening my breath when you're near.
Waiting for you to wrap me in your arms,
That warmth only you can give me.

Having a permanent spot on your bed,
Your chest, where I'll lay my head.
Hot showers together before we see friends.
Walking together, hand in hand.
No one to speak, reprimand.

One day.
One day I won't have to wish. 

For David, For you.
Oh, what I would do.
I heard a cry in the night,
A thousand miles it came,
Sharp as a flash of light,
My name, my name!

It was your voice I heard,
You waked and loved me so—
I send you back this word,
I know, I know!
His lips press against my neck
My hair stands on end and my fists clinch tight
His arms rap around my chest like a straitjacket
He is rough in all the right ways
He pushes me against the wall
His breath warms the back of my neck
I feel him slowly turn me around to face him
His soft hands wrap around my waist so gently
I look deep into his light brown eyes
His eyes pull me toward him like an inescapable gravitational field
The space between us grows ever smaller
My mind is racing at the speed of light
Our lips touch for the first time
My mind freezes
My body goes numb and is then filled with a warming since of passion and love
Are lips feel like two puzzle pieces that were made to fit together
I finally understand what the perfect kiss feels like
This perfect moment is stopped by a screeching noise followed by a bone shacking vibration
I wake up to my life and get ready for work* -Jeffrey Sutter
 Oct 2012 Jose Martinez
Janette
There’ is a certain art,
not the cliché’ form,
of such dalliance divine,
The forge of opening a woman,
Fully, to see the beautiful creation of Eden

It’ is not the opening of legs,
nor the parting of thighs,
such is just a middle,
a jumping point,
the truistic beginning

The delicious devouring starts
first at the mouth
where the ****** first builds
in salivating lip smacking nibbles
burning through the veins
opening the gate
breaching the uncertainty
of submitting to that wanting, always,
for someone to know
where to touch
where to lick
where to urge flesh alive

then it inches, in Picasso brushes
along the flesh,
(breast, waist, hips,)
where fingers and tongue find a certain rhythm
causing the body to sing, without thought
the song of origins

As it opens the strained passage, naturally,
wet with strange desire
curious, needing redemption
for all the lonely hours of denial
of wanting someone
to taste, smell, touch the ache away

And you will lick first the wounds;
the hurtful lashing of old lovers,
then you will be surprised
how easily she dissolves
fallen against your mouth
as you lick the silky wings
**** them between your lips
tongue the opening
getting inside enough to taste
the rouged flower, the Van Gogh surprise
bloomimg, simply, magnificently, against the lap of your tongue
only to feel, so wondrously,
her surrender, quivering,
warm against your mouth

And she will lay, breathless, trembling
moaning your name,
so grateful, so thankful
you took time with tongue and patience
to make her feel alive
To make her feel like a woman
To make her feel as if she were just birthed into this world
To be made exclusive by your worship of all she is....
need to go and sit in the freezer to cool down :)
Pride-

Thinking Of Me First

Doesn’t Matter Who Gets Hurt

When You Cry, I Smirk ;-)



Greed-

There’s Never Enough

And I’ll Take What You Have Too

Don’t Like It? …Well Tough!





Wrath-

I’ve Taken Control

War Replaced Love Long Ago

Black Hole Through The Soul



Gluttony -

Starved For Attention

I Am In No Mood For Food

I Am Craving You



Envy-

You Have Everything

The Reason I Despise You

…Should Not Surprise You



Sloth-

Time to smell  daisies

Such fun in being lazy

Don’t think so?...Crazy



Lust-

Kiss me in my sleep

This fire that’s inside me

Yearning, Burning, Deep
As I rest my weary head upon my pillow
your scent still clinging to me
I need your arms so desperately
to warm and comfort me
All worry disappears in the embrace of those
sweet arms
Forgetting troubling times and the hurt
held in these scars
come with me into this night
sooth the rageing seas with in me
Fight the dawn and keep it from
bringing on these troubling days
stay with me forever in this darkness
I am loud,
Demanding attention.
I know when I am being charming
Because I try.
I put on my impressing face
And do my impressing hair
And speak my impressing words.
I tell you my embarrassing drinking stories
And everything else about me
That you probably shouldn’t know.

I am not good at being quiet
Because that’s not who I am.
I am not the sweet girl
Who will leave you with a smile
And a touch
And a glance
Or a single word.
There is nothing of this fashion of romance
About me.

I am the girl who will point out your flaws,
And take you outside to see the stars,
And remind you how human you are,
And what a wonderful thing that is.

I am the girl who will talk about science,
And music and theology and history,
And point out constellations, laughing,
When you don’t know the big dipper’s name.

I am the girl who will make witty references,
To classic literature and science fiction,
And will tell you stories of how I once,
Made a gingerbread replica of a lighthouse.

I am the girl who will stand on a table,
And sing at the top of my lungs on the highway,
And act like a chicken or quail or velociraptor,
Or nuzzle your face like a lion to make a point.

I am the girl who takes too many shots
And then coaxes you to bed on a Russian liver,
And knows all the right places to bite, and tease,
And follows with exceptionally coherent pillow-talk.

I am not a thin silk scarf on the wind.
I am not a thing hard to capture.
You would not spend a perilous journey
Through a wild, perfumed jungle,
Searching for my slender garments
Hung beside a pool
As I wail to the breeze.

Rather, I am the bird who flies overhead
Making too much noise
Distracting from the trail ahead.
A bird whose plumage proves
What an interesting life it must be…
What a colorful life for me…
Perpetually strange
The lone comic relief.

I am many things.
But I am not quiet.
Of this I am sure.
09/07/12




A personal statement.
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