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

"You get what you want , but you don't
have what you need.
Many of us go through life with smiles
on our faces, yet the heart is of stone.
It needs to be chiseled down.
you need tools for that, but not the kind
of tools that many think about.
( a hammer & a chisel)
Try thinking of placing the hammer with
a (Thought) and the chisel with a (Goal)
Try thinking of the things you received in
your life that you always took for granted.
They came to you with a purpose.
Many of us think for what was received was
placed in their proper place. if so then why
the heart of stone.
Try now in your lives to whatever comes to
you, set them toward a goal. A goal to start
breaking down the stone, and replace it with Love.
A love that gives  now what you need.
Have the things you need, rather with the things
you got. "A Replacement"....

We often fight because I am such a pessimistic person. You see, I am someone who can't see a single gem in me. I wonder how you managed to have feelings for me. Yet you're still there beside me; and I like it.

I never liked the idea of you taking pictures of me. When I sometimes check your phone to delete some candid photos you took a while ago, I would accidentally check you private messages out of curiosity. Hoping I would find something funny, something that'll shock me, or an assurance that  maybe some other girls are trying to lead on to you. I never doubted you. You told me thousands of times that you will never look at someone the same way you look at me but who knows? Even sometime, the rain falls on deserts.

I am still afraid of you spending time with other girls, not because I don't want you to have girl friends or so but I am afraid that you might find them attractive. When I knew that you had this sort of connection to this girl, I was in complete dismay to myself spending the next three weeks crying before I go to sleep, asking why didn't you go for her and why me? I don't know what's worse, my swollen eyes by the time I wake up or the day you realize you deserve much more than me.

I never wanted to meet your friends, not because I don't like them. In all honesty, they're really nice and fun to be with but I know by the time they see me, will also the time they'll ask you if you regret loving me. I am not like your past girlfriends who're petite and beautiful inside and out. I am no beautiful nor an amazing person. I never looked myself as a beautiful person, I never will. However every single day you never fail to tell me that I am. Honestly I still don't know if you really mean that or you're just complimenting me because I am your girlfriend.


I would prefer staying indoors than to walk along the pavements of a local park or have my time spent in the mall, window shopping with you. Don't get me wrong I want to at least have our dates or maybe just to be with you just like that but you have to understand me that I don't like it when people stare at us. Strangers giving you that same certain look, telling you "why are you with that type of girl?" Your delicate hands are intertwined with something unpleasant, a tight rope perhaps. I am no bouquet of flowers. I am a parade of not well made paper hearts.

We often fight because I am such a pessimistic person. You see, I am someone who can't see a single gem in me. I would often suggest that you should leave me for good and yet you're still there beside me; and I like it.