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lost in the garden of beautiful flowers rising to meet the dawn chorus the tides of reason and synchronised breathing devoid of reason no need for meaning senses linger the emotions are porous like monsoon raindrops clad in storm cloud towers she mirrors in reflections of her milky white skin and the amorous eyes and Loki's broad grin lead the Viking to the valley of shadow the heaving breast of the raven haired siren sheathed in wanton desires the beckoning of lust and the follies of jest the arcane pleasures of sin pressed ****** to ****** upon his battle torn chest leaves little to the imagination the ravages of the beast within graced with the fingertips of a females caress lest it not be forgotten amid the gamut of time and the crimson red lips dripping with the juices of the ***** of her King.
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May 18, 2014
May 18, 2014 at 2:29 PM UTC
Pouncing for Peaches
lost in the garden of beautiful flowers rising to meet the dawn chorus the tides of reason and synchronised breathing devoid of reason no need for meaning senses linger the emotions are porous like monsoon raindrops clad in storm cloud towers she mirrors in reflections of her milky white skin and the amorous eyes and Loki's broad grin lead the Viking to the valley of shadow the heaving breast of the raven haired siren sheathed in wanton desires the beckoning of lust and the follies of jest the arcane pleasures of sin pressed ****** to ****** upon his battle torn chest leaves little to the imagination the ravages of the beast within graced with the fingertips of a females caress lest it not be forgotten amid the gamut of time and the crimson red lips dripping with the juices of the ***** of her King.
a poem inspired by sensation, sexuality and lust
DBeard
Written by
Scottish
May 18, 2014
May 18, 2014 at 2:29 PM UTC
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