Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Gliding her fingers from soft to tight The gilded marionette makes a move familiar Around my neck, between my legs She pull/plays my manhood the one who pegs The tips of index, middle, ring and pinkie A dismissive look, with an intent to shrink me Chased by insanity Chased by a pseudo-chaste cock-ring tease yarn controls my escape, ears to ignore my pleas   strings of sadistic strings of laughter   strings saunter strings of master strings of ********** yet still i walk her as a ghostly orbiting satellite stalker ******** purple::: smile lust sensation As the puppeteers rope cut my circulation Only then can she strum her favorite tune The Pinocchio Waltz played on a five string loom **She tunes her string with every finger A dismissive giggle plays the part of singer** The middle for the daily **** you**” because she can The ring will be for another man The pointer lets you know her needs The pinkie for the soul that bleeds The thumb is for the empress’ judgement   Till she slaps you down, (I ******* love) her **** bludgeons**
0
Jun 29, 2019
Jun 29, 2019 at 4:18 AM UTC
Strings to Tune
Gliding her fingers from soft to tight The gilded marionette makes a move familiar Around my neck, between my legs She pull/plays my manhood the one who pegs The tips of index, middle, ring and pinkie A dismissive look, with an intent to shrink me Chased by insanity Chased by a pseudo-chaste cock-ring tease yarn controls my escape, ears to ignore my pleas   strings of sadistic strings of laughter   strings saunter strings of master strings of ********** yet still i walk her as a ghostly orbiting satellite stalker ******** purple::: smile lust sensation As the puppeteers rope cut my circulation Only then can she strum her favorite tune The Pinocchio Waltz played on a five string loom **She tunes her string with every finger A dismissive giggle plays the part of singer** The middle for the daily **** you**” because she can The ring will be for another man The pointer lets you know her needs The pinkie for the soul that bleeds The thumb is for the empress’ judgement   Till she slaps you down, (I ******* love) her **** bludgeons**
clark-davis-hitchens
Written by
Jun 29, 2019
Jun 29, 2019 at 4:18 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem